Odalisque
by Tituba3
Summary: Rukia Kuchiki: smart, successful, & forever single. When her new job throws her into a whirlwind of mergers, jealous secretaries, treachery, and vile, yet incredibly sexy orange-haired coworkers, she is left wondering whether fate will let her out alive.
1. Prologue

**Disclaimer: I do not own Bleach or any Bleach affiliates.**

_**Odalisque**_

**Prologue**

Rukia Kuchiki glared hard at the tiny words on her computer screen. Her loathing for those little letters seemed insurmountable at this moment. Her fingers were tight on the edges of her seat and her mouth was set in a hard, imperceptible line. Her gaze was filled with steel and she could feel her teeth grinding lugubriously against each other.

She would not do this. She would call Momo and tell her that it was impossible, she did not want to do this and she most certainly did not _need_ to do this—as Momo had previously stated. She was Rukia Kuchiki; her life did not require measures as desperate as these.

Yet.

She honestly couldn't believe she had been roped into this. Throughout her entire life she had never let anyone tell her what to do. She was a lawyer for gods sake, she ordered people around for a living but she sure as hell didn't let them reciprocate the favor. Her teeth were grinding harder against each other and she grumpily looked to the side. She was trying so hard not to look at the illuminated screen.

It was _humiliating_.

_Alright_, she told herself angrily, _I can start this out slowly, no need to rush. I've got all the time in the world. One at a time, that's the trick; I just have to go at this one at a fucking time._

She moved her large, violet, irises in the direction of the computer and read the first line.

_What is your profession?_

_Okay_, she thought bitterly, _this is easy enough._

Her fingers moved swiftly over the keyboard and she tapped lightly. "Corporate lawyer." She said them aloud as the words appeared on the screen. She removed her wrists from the pads on her desk and commanded her mind to take a break.

She had decided… this _was_ humiliating. She did not need to do this survey—if you could even call it a survey, more like a torturous mind game for single women. A trap, that's what this was, to make her—or any woman for that matter—feel like she was incomplete without a man in her life.

Rukia squared her shoulders and moved onto the next question.

_What do you like to do when you're not working?_

"Absolutely nothing." Rukia blurted out spitefully.

Alright, that was maybe half true. She didn't work _all_ the time, just enough to make people _think_ she did. She wasn't a complete workaholic. She always made sure never to work more than sixty five hours a week, Sundays were always her designated days off, and she did go to the movies on the occasional Friday night. There were always office parties and benefits and elegant balls where she would always find the time to schmooze the next poor bastard who would be conquered by her ever-expanding company. So yes, she _did_ have something of a social life, not a very big one, granted, but it was still there.

_How many friends do you have?_

"One," Rukia snorted as she typed it out. She berated herself angrily for moving onto the next question with out a small break but she only grumbled and continued.

Yes, she did have a friend, Momo Hinamori, her pal since they graduated together from college and went to work for the same company. They went running together every Sunday morning at eight—granted, Rukia would have invited Momo to all of her morning runs but the woman flatly refused. Apparently, five in the morning was too early for Momo to even think of getting up.

So yes, she did have a friend, not to mention she also had several acquaintances, she knew many people from work and from around the city. The man who did her dry cleaning, for example, his name was Peter, and she saw him every week. He knew her name and her face and had never shrunken any of her suits.

But actual, honest-to-god friends… yes, only one of those.

Rukia reached to the side of her computer and grasped her glass of wine. The glass was at least three quarters full but she down the damned thing in three gulps. The next question made her scowl angrily.

_On a scale of one to ten, how happy are you on a daily basis?_

"At the moment," she responded nastily to the air around her. "Zero."

Rukia swirled the dregs of wine around in the glass and made an unhappy face. She growled and shoved her chair back as she stood. The sudden rush of blood to her head made her a bit woozy but she made her way to the kitchen anyway. She reached for the bottle of wine she had left out on her counter and poured herself another glass. A bit of wine tipped over the edge and she wiped away the drops immediately.

Honestly, filling this thing out was depressing her more than it should. It was just a stinking profile, it didn't have claws or fangs or any type of disease-causing microbe attached to it. It was just a simple questionnaire on a simple dating website.

She raised the glass to her lips and took a few sips, reminding herself that she needed to slow it down when it came to alcohol. She ran her tongue over her lips to gather any droplets left and smacked them playfully. Then she sent a sour glare to her computer and took the opportunity to slosh more wine into the crystal vessel.

She still couldn't believe that Momo had talked her into something like this. Of all the things she had gotten Rukia roped in with this was by far one of the worst.

Rukia snorted audibly and wrinkled her nose, "Come on Rukia," she mimicked in a high-pitched squeal. "It's just one little test. You don't even have to go out with any of them. Just try it. It won't kill you!"

Rukia huffed and brought her glass—bottle—of wine back to her computer. She really shouldn't be that mad at Momo; the woman was just trying to help, after all. But seriously, Rukia wasn't that much of a hopeless case. She had gotten dates in the past and she could still get them any time she wanted. She most certainly did _not_ have to employ the services of an online dating website in order to get a date… or get laid.

She had told Momo this countless times over the past two weeks—which was when the infamous plan first popped into her head—but Momo had not believed a word Rukia had said. It wasn't as though Momo didn't have reason to worry though; if Momo's calendars were correct then Rukia hadn't gone on an _actual_ date since she was about twenty four.

"It's only been two years." Rukia grumbled as she sat back down at her offending computer. "Only two years, I'm still young, I'm good looking."

It was then that Momo had given her the _talk_.

The talk was nothing sexual, Rukia was fairly well-versed in that area of study—even if it had been a while—so no… instead, this was the _cat_ talk.

_Rukia slowed down a bit so Momo could catch her breath. Her feet felt so nice in the squishy comfort of her sneakers. Sweat was running down her lower back and across her temples but she didn't wipe it away. Her hair was pulled up into a tight pony tail and her body was snugly fit into her tight running shorts and her billowing shirt. She reveled in the way her body felt after sprinting for a while. Her legs were tingling and her head was light with euphoria. Hell, running was one of the few things that made her feel completely happy, she knew it had to do with endorphins or something but she didn't pay much attention to that. She loved how light and fast she felt when she ran. She felt indomitable._

_Momo, of course, was lagging behind a bit. She had been up late the previous night and wasn't moving as quickly as Rukia._

_A jogging couple passed the two of them—Rukia was looking up at the clear blue sky and Momo was bent and wheezing softly beside her. The joggers were a man and a woman wearing matching attire. Blue shorts and black shirts—very chic considering it was only nine in the morning._

_Momo must have looked up as they passed because not a moment later she grasped Rukia's wrist and tugged hard._

"_He was totally checking you out." She giggled before going into a gasping fit._

_Rukia sent Momo an irritated glance and shook her head. "I doubt it, wasn't he with that woman?" She looked over her shoulder at the pair and saw their matching behinds turning the corner._

_Momo snorted and looked with Rukia. "Doesn't mean he can't look."_

"_Kind of does."_

"_What's that saying?" Momo mused, "Just because you've already ordered doesn't mean you can't look at the menu?"_

_Rukia poked Momo in the side, "I highly doubt that's an actual saying." She sighed and began to roll her shoulders. "Besides, isn't that what commitment is all about? Staying with one person and not looking at others? I mean, come on, they were wearing matching jogging suits, you don't get much more 'together' than _that_."_

"_Ah," Momo sighed, she pulled out three dollars from her back pocket and walked over to the snack vendor that normally sold them water. They ran in the park along a couple well-known trails so it was pretty common to have vendors, hustlers, dog-walkers, joggers, kids, and bikers crossing their paths. This vendor had been in the same spot for as long as they had been coming here. He knew them well enough to always have two bottles of icy cold water waiting in exchange for their three dollars._

_The sun was beating down on their backs and Momo practically crooned when the man handed her the bottles. She first passed the cool plastic over her face and then over her neck while Rukia uncapped hers and took a drink. Another jogging pair passed by—this time it was two guys—and they both sent appreciative glances—and a few whistles—in their direction._

_Momo turned, smiled, and gave the two a little wave. Rukia snorted and contemplated giving them the finger but only turned away._

_When the jogging pair was far enough away an irritated Momo sent a punch into Rukia's arm and she yelped in pain. "What was that for?" She demanded hotly as her fingers rubbed the tender spot._

"_Oh come _on_ Rukia!" Momo frowned, "You could have at least said hi to them."_

"_Could have," Rukia snapped, "But didn't."_

"_Honestly," Momo grunted, "Sometimes I think you're just hopeless."_

"_I'm not hopeless," Rukia said as they resumed their leisurely cool-down walk along the trail. Rukia wanted to run again but she knew that Momo would pass out if she were made to move fast any time soon. "I just don't like being looked at, whistled at, or touched by random guys who think I'm just some brainless piece of meat."_

_Momo sighed and shook her head. "Rukia, hon, if you don't stop talking like that you're going to end up…" She broke off and shuddered theatrically._

_Rukia shot her a swift glance, "A what? End up as a what?" Her tone was flat and dangerous, the same tone she used with obdurate clients._

_Momo turned to Rukia and looked at her with horrified, expressive, eyes. She licked her lips and then painfully whispered, "A _cat lady_."_

_Rukia's face deadpanned. "A what?" She asked dryly._

_Momo rolled her eyes histrionically, "Oh come off it Rukia, don't you watch movies?"_

"_Old ones."_

"_A cat lady! A crazy cat lady!" She waved her hands in front of Rukia's face, as if trying to dig up some long forgotten memory. Rukia just stared at her blankly. "You know, the woman who could never find a man—or hold onto one—so instead, she buys tons and tons of cats just to compensate for the loneliness she feels. She always smells like cats and there's always cat hair on _all_ of her clothing."_

_Momo leaped in front of her friend and turned so she was walking backwards. She pointed an accusing finger at Rukia's chest and glared. "You, young lady, are going to become a crazy cat lady if you don't start paying attention to members of the opposite sex." She shrugged her shoulders and sighed, "Or you can pay attention to members of the same sex and live happily ever after _that_ way, but it's definitely got to be one or the other missy."_

"_Bite me." Rukia muttered bitterly as she downed the last of her water and tossed the bottle into a bin._

"_Sorry," Momo shrugged but smiled and pointed over to some male runners approaching them, "But you can ask one of them. I'm sure they'd be happy to oblige."_

_Rukia grabbed Momo's water bottle and tossed the cold liquid onto her friend's face. Momo shrieked in horror but Rukia let out a laugh. She turned on her heel and ran away from her furious friend, knowing full well that Momo wouldn't be able to catch her._

Needless to say, Momo had resurrected the 'cat lady' lecture each time they had gotten together, spoke on the phone, or ate lunch together. She scolded Rukia for not being able to find the right guy and Rukia said she didn't want one. Momo laughed and asked her when she had last had sex, Rukia rolled her eyes and asked if a vibrator counted. Momo had tossed a piece of shrimp at her and shook her head no.

Momo had tried everything to get her on a date lately. She read Rukia's horoscope daily, she forwarded email addresses of suitable male friends to her, and she even set up "accidental" meetings with male acquaintances during their Sunday runs or weekday lunches. Rukia ignored and/or blew off every single attempt. To be quite honest she didn't know why Momo was trying so hard to find her a suitable date. Yet when the '_when was the last time you had sex'_ reason didn't work anymore, Rukia forced Momo to admit,_ 'I just want you to be happy.'_

Incidentally, all of this had started only a couple weeks after Momo started to get _happy_ with Toshiro Hitsugaya.

Two weeks after their discussion about cats Momo had informed Rukia that she was signing her up for a dating service. Apparently Rukia had three choices: speed dating, blind dating—the applicants themselves would be chosen by Rukia's _dearest_ friend—or online dating.

After hours of trying to get Momo to change her mind she had finally agreed to online dating. Rukia had decided that it was at least it was safer and a bit less humiliating than the other two.

So now here she was, filling out a profile for an online dating service.

Rukia rubbed her finger along the edges of her wine glass and listened to the delicate ringing noise that it produced. She moved her mouse a bit and watched as her rabbit-themed screen saver disappeared. The questionnaire was back and she glared at the offending mess once again.

_With which type of person do you think you're compatible?_

Rukia felt a blood vessel in her forehead tick with annoyance. Her jaw was tight and her hand was clenched so hard she heard her mouse crack. She furiously stood from her chair and stomped towards her home phone. Her grip was firm as she dialed the numbers of her best friend's apartment and in her mind she was thinking of all the curse words she could jam into the first sentence of their conversation.

It took three rings for the phone to be answered and by that time Rukia had grown even more irritated—if that was even possible.

The person on the other line, however, was not her chipper and overly cheerful female friend, but Momo's boyfriend. He answered rudely in a cracked and gritty voice and Rukia snapped at him like a cat that was having its tail pulled.

_Whoa, _Rukia thought for a moment, _cats, bad analogy._

"Toshiro," she snarled. She was far too used to having him answer the phone to be polite to him. "Phone. Momo. _Now_."

He didn't even say anything to her; Rukia simply heard the rustling of sheets and Toshiro grumble about his significant other's "psychotic friend." Rukia made a mental note to smack his head for that later but found that, oddly enough, at the moment the description fit perfectly.

There was a groan on the other side of the phone and a grumpy Momo answered, "Rukia? Do you know what time it is?"

Rukia glanced at hear clock and winced, "Two seventeen." She answered shortly then plopped down into her seat, her voice hardening. "But let me ask you a question Momo," she paused and leaned in so she could read the tiny words on the screen. "With which type of person do you think I'm compatible?"

There was a pause before a quiet voice beside Momo muttered, "Crazy people."

"Tell Toshiro I heard that," Rukia hissed. "Well? Do you know, Momo, do you? Because I sure as hell don't!"

"Wait," her friend grumbled, "Rukia… are you doing that profile… _now_?"

"Yes," she shot back. "When else was I going to do it? I'm too busy during the day."

"Rukia," she heard Momo sit up, "Why can't _you_ answer these questions? I mean, it is supposed to match _you_ with someone else, isn't it?"

"_You're_ the one who's forcing me to do this." Rukia accused, pointing her finger into the air for emphasis. "Why don't _you_ answer these questions?"

"Gee, I don't know, maybe because I might _purposefully_ mess up and hook you up with a forty year old slob who lives in his mother's basement." Momo ground out as she yawned again. "Rukia, come on, I'm tired, I need sleep, I know you do too, you get up too early."

"I'll have an extra espresso." She declared shortly and gritted her teeth together. "But honestly, these questions are ridiculous!" She positioned the phone between her shoulder and ear and scrolled on her computer. "How am I supposed to know who I'm compatible with? Isn't this test supposed to tell me?"

"It n-needs you to answer th-those things so t-they can match you with s-someone else." She answered dully, yawns punctuating her sentence every so often. "Alright, _you_, go to bed. I'll help you with it later."

"Oh fine, that's just fine," Rukia spat, "Leave _me_ here to suffer."

"Then go to bed," Momo chastised, "Let the suffering end with sleep. Come on Rukia, just… get some sleep and yell at me tomorrow."

"You had better count on that." Rukia seethed as she shut off the phone and slammed it down onto her table.

The computer was mocking her. Rukia all but bared her teeth at the damn thing before smacking it shut and downing the last of her wine. She'd wake up with a killer headache tomorrow but it didn't matter. Maybe if she drank enough tonight she would forget about that stupid questionnaire.

Rukia pushed her bottle, glass, and computer away and clumsily stood from her chair. She stumbled into her room and collapsed onto her overly fluffy bed.

She snorted once and wiggled closer to the pillows. Who was Momo to tell her that she needed a man in her life? She had only snagged Toshiro recently—even though it seemed like an eternity—and she was even older than Rukia! Twenty six was not desperate, and just because she hadn't had a date in a while—two years—didn't mean she was hopeless, far from it… life just needed to provide her with the appropriate opportunity. She didn't need to change for anything… life needed to change for her.

With that thought in mind Rukia Kuchiki fell into a fitful sleep.

**(A/N: Here's a new story. I posted it first on but I decided to post it here too since I had a very positive response to Murder My Heart. I hope everyone likes it.**

**Remember, if you don't like my story then it wasn't written for you.**

**I'll update this site and the other at the same time. :)**

**Anyway, review, review, and review! Tell me what you think about this!)**


	2. Chapter 1

**Disclaimer: I do not own Bleach or any Bleach affiliates.**

_**Odalisque**_

**Chapter 1**

"Shit!" Rukia cried—much to the annoyance of the other passengers on the metro—as she continued to frantically search the inside of her overtly large purse for her cell phone. "Oh god damn it!" She half-yelled as her fingers collided with everything else except her beloved phone. Grumbling angrily, she shifted the black leather bag onto her lap and began to dig in earnest, searching inside the contraption with both of her hands.

After five minutes of relatively desperate searching Rukia finally conceded that she had left her phone in her apartment. She cursed herself for her forgetfulness and grumpily imagined where she'd find the damn thing once she got back to her apartment. It was probably sitting on her bed, or her dresser, or even on her stove.

She grunted angrily and slumped back into her filthy seat. She squirmed for a moment before finding a spot that was a bit more tolerable and set her face into a firm scowl.

She knew that today was going to be a bad day; she had known it from the moment she had woken up. Rukia groaned at the very thought of the impending day and cursed herself for having drank so much wine last night. She should have known that it would give her a headache the size of the Washington Monument in the morning. But no, she had gone right on ahead and downed that bottle like it was water and she had been lost in a desert for a week.

The metro train dinged again and she watched aimlessly as the doors opened and closed. More people got on and she wrinkled her nose when one particular passenger's bodily functions began to fumigate the entire car. For what must have been the billionth time that morning Rukia Kuchiki cursed herself and silently but vigorously began to rub her temples.

Her stop came next and she was more than happy to get off of the car as quickly as possible.

Her footsteps were hurried but not frantic as she quickly climbed the stairs to the station, slid her card through the automated device, and stepped out into the cool, bright, early morning sunshine.

She looked up to the brightly lit sky and moved her head slightly to the side. A small smile crept on her face as she looked up into the monstrosity that was the Gotei Corporation's main building. It was her workplace, her semi-permanent home, and her life. Her quick eyes slowly looked towards the bottom and then began to count upwards, she smirked when her eyes focused on level seventeen. Her pupils slid over to the corner and she sighed when she thought of her office.

It had taken her the better part of her young adult life to earn that office. It was the dream of that office that had made her take all the accelerated classes in her high school. It was the idea of that office that had forced her to stay inside her dorm room during college and study every night for an exam she forced herself to ace. Her years of law school had given her that office. Her persistence and her dogged determination to be the best had caused her to seek out Gotei Corp. Her long hours at the office and her insistent perfection in everything she did made her shoot straight to the top.

She was now the official legal council behind nearly every decision that the Gotei Corporation made with associates, rivals, and employees. She had that coveted corner office at the tender age of only twenty six.

This was unprecedented in the legal world as well as the corporate world. She was practically a child, or, at least, that was what her competitors and cynics said whenever they saw her. This was true to some extent; she _was_ very young and she _was_ a bit less experienced than many of her older colleagues, at least when it came to the actual practices of business. Many people acknowledged these as her weaknesses immediately.

That was, of course, before they actually met her.

Rukia Kuchiki was not just smart. She was _very_ smart. One was not raised as the sister of world business tycoon, Byakuya Kuchiki, and not be smart. Once she was put in front of a client, shook his hand, and began to speak all of their doubts were usually demolished. She was ruthless when it came to her line of work. She attacked without sympathy and generally left her victims wriggling on the ground, gasping for air. She was a killer when it came to her legal profession—she never took anything in stride, she always considered every minute detail possible, and she never _ever_ overlooked _anything_.

Rukia smirked to herself as she continued to stare at her office. She must have looked like an idiot, just standing there on the street, looking up at a building, but she didn't mind. She liked to look at her office, she had damn well earned the right to look.

Someone rushed past her and bumped into her shoulder, jerking Rukia quietly out of her light daze. She gently raised her wrist to her face and glanced at the time. She still had enough time to grab a cup of coffee before getting into work at her usual time—seven o'clock.

She tightened her hold on her briefcase and began a brisk walk to the local coffee shop near her office building. Her heels clicked on the ground and she smiled softly when a few men sent appreciative glances her way. She quirked an eyebrow as she pointedly ignored them. Still, she couldn't help it if she looked fantastic in a business suit.

She entered the shop, which was affectionately titled _Cool Beans_, and walked straight to the front counter. Behind the register was a pimply-faced teenager who barely looked old enough to drive. He was standing with both elbows on the table, his drooping head held between his hands, Rukia even thought she heard him snore.

The sound of her shoes snapped him out of his reverie and he blearily asked her what she wanted to drink.

"Coffee," Rukia told him flatly and he bobbed his head in acknowledgement.

It took him five minutes to make her drink, which Rukia thought was completely ridiculous considering she only ordered regular black coffee. When it came time to add a couple of nickels to the tip jar Rukia simply put her change back into her purse and turned her nose up at the clueless boy. He gave her a disgruntled glare but Rukia returned one that would have frozen the blood of Satan. She left the frightened boy without a second glance.

Rukia sipped on her coffee as she rounded the blocks necessary to get to the Gotei Corporation. The hot and black liquid splashed over her tongue as she drank it as slowly as she could. She knew that her headache from this morning would only get worse as the day went by—not to mention her lack of sleep would be a problem as well—but she was not daunted. Today would be a bad day, yes, but she would fight it head on.

However, Rukia's mood instantly soured when she thought of what Momo had put her through last night. In theory, it was Momo who had brought on this terrible head ache. Rukia grinned when she thought of how she could make her bad mood Momo's fault.

That damn profile was the first thing that had appeared in her mind when she woke up this morning, it dominated her run around the park, and it preoccupied her brain as she got ready for work.

She glanced up at Gotei Corp. and wondered if _this_ was the reason Momo had gone on this whole "find a man for Rukia" nonsense.

At least, it was utter nonsense to her, to Momo it was a matter of utmost importance. Rukia still didn't know why her friend was making such a big deal out of all of this. Rukia had never really been the out-going social type, thanks in part to older brother Byakuya. Her brother had always made a point to make sure that all boys who showed any interest in her when she was a teenager were promptly dissuaded—weather it be through modes of flat out refusal or frightening intimidation. Needless to say, having an older brother like that had made her much less popular with the males in her classroom.

When she went to college she continued in the same moderately dateless vein; there were a few boyfriends she went out with here and there but nothing that was overtly serious. Most of the guys who had shown interest were thrown off by the fact that she actually studied. College wasn't really a social time for Rukia, it might have been for her roommate, Momo Hinamori, but not for her. She, once again, had her brother—and his ridiculously high expectations—to thank for that.

Rukia took another gulp of coffee and grimaced when it scalded her throat. Now she was grown up, an up-and-coming mogul in the business world, and almost always dateless. While that worked in her favor whenever she attended business parties, dinners, and luncheons, it seemed to forever annoy her friend. Momo had tried repeatedly to find Rukia someone in the workplace—like she had done with Toshiro—but Rukia had flatly rejected the suggestion. She pointed out to Momo that all of them were either too young (the mail clerks), too uneducated (the mail clerks again), too old, too proud, or just too cocky.

And not cocky in the _good_ way either.

Besides, she knew the types of women that the majority of men she worked with liked to date—or at least sleep with. All of them generally had significantly small IQ's, large breasts, and blonde hair. None of which described her.

But honestly, Rukia still didn't see the need for Momo to sign her up for an online dating service. That measure was at least ten years premature.

Okay, if things kept going the way they were going… maybe five years.

Still, she shouldn't have been immensely surprised. Since Momo had found her "soul mate," Toshiro, about six months ago she had been on a distinct war path to try and find the same type of match for Rukia. Rukia had told her repeatedly that this did not need to happen and that she could—if she had wanted to—find a perfectly suitable partner for herself. Momo, however, had refused and promptly began to list all of the boyfriends that Rukia had had in the eight years that they had known each other

She counted them all using only two hands.

Still, Rukia didn't care. She would fight Momo off until there wasn't a breath left in her body.

Rukia kept walking as though she were in some sort of a trance. Her feet seemed independent from her brain as she trudged along, for once she cursed herself for getting up and running instead of staying and sleeping in. Her tired mind was just too preoccupied with worrying over Momo and her wicked plans to really care about anything else. She only prayed that today would not be an exceptionally busy day at work. She could handle bad, just not busy.

Rukia craned her neck up and once again began counting the floors. She was almost to the seventeenth when something unexpected rammed her from the side.

Rukia let out a sharp yelp as hot coffee splashed onto her white silk blouse and navy blazer. She felt her balance shift and she opened her eyes in horror as her body pitched forward. She landed hard on the cement walkway, effectively crushing her arms and her briefcase underneath her small body.

She heard someone curse beside her and immediately turned her head to the side. Her throbbing temples only succeeded in pounding even more when she saw the man on the ground next to her.

Growling through her teeth, Rukia placed both hands beneath her and heaved her body from the hard cement. She kept her attaché at her feet while she hastily straightened her skirt and tried to smooth her rumpled complexion.

"Shit!" She cursed as she dug a handkerchief from her pocket, following the one expletive with a series of others. She grunted and wrinkled her nose; she really couldn't seem to control her mouth this morning, if all this cursing was any indication. She continued wiping dirt and loose coffee from her clothes and out of the corner of her eye she saw the blackish blob rise from the pavement. The man had already begun his own line of curses as he straightened.

Normally, if a situation like this were to occur, Rukia would turn around, give the man a terrible glare, and be on her way—she had extra shirts in her office and she did not need to sully her attitude further by engaging in irritating banter with this man. She would have just ignored this man like he was any other conniving, narcissistic, asshole.

At least, she would have… if he hadn't turned to her and actually opened his mouth.

"I hope you're going to pay for this." He spat.

Rukia's spine stiffened and—for some reason—her cheeks reddened. Her temper was rising quickly—even more so than normal, which was unusual considering how she typically acted around irritating men, which was basically cold and disdainful. Instead, she planted her feet in the ground and twirled on her heels. Her hands were clenched into fists and her jaw was tightly clenched. Her vision spun for a moment but stilled once she stopped moving.

Rukia's eyes widened and she nearly burst out laughing.

Not at the man himself, no… there was nothing remotely humorous about his man; it was what was on top of his head that nearly made her giggle outrageously.

It was orange. Bright, lively, orange. The type of orange that was only associated with face paint or clown hair or fruit. It was set in an unruly mop of disorderliness that nearly made Rukia want to get a comb and straighten it. It was just so… _orange_.

That wasn't even the worst part either. Her eyes began to rake down this man's body and she almost gulped at what she saw. His legs were impossibly long and lean, they were the type of legs that Rukia knew, if he just tore off those pinstriped suit pants, could carry him through a fucking triathlon. His torso looked toned and cut underneath his matching striped blazer. He had broad shoulders the width of which made his jacket seem a bit tight. Then she got to his face and blinked.

_What an ugly face._ Was the first thought that ran through her head.

She had to adjust her thinking for a moment before cocking her head to the side and studying him further. He wasn't ugly per say, his face was just… different. His eyebrows were pulled together in an impossibly tight frown—but Rukia didn't know if that was from the coffee that she now noticed was spilled all over the front of his suit or if that was just how he usually looked—and his mouth was turned down.

Rukia blinked at him and watched as he pulled his hot, sticky shirt away from his skin—which she could almost see through the white cloth. Her own hands were busy wiping away the stains on her own blouse but her gaze was still trained firmly on him. Slowly, her mind was getting over how he looked—which was, in one word, weird—and reverting back to what he had said.

"Excuse me?" Rukia suddenly blurted, her thoughts finally wrapping around what he had said and what she needed to say in response. Her eyes narrowed and she set her jaw in a firm line—for some reason it had gone slack while she examined him. She folded her arms over her chest, ignoring the pain of the hot fabric against her skin, and planted her feet firmly on the ground. "What did you say?" She demanded, glaring at the man before her.

He finally looked up and Rukia had to fight the urge not to let her mouth drop… again. His eyes were a stunning shade of amber. They even seemed to fluctuate in the shimmering daylight. She was at least five feet from him but even from there she could see the delicate chocolate tones mixed in with honey and brown sugar.

She would have been completely stunned by them had she not watched those magnificent eyes narrow in annoyance. He turned towards her, his entire, masculine body facing her much smaller one. Rukia was right, he was tall, nothing more than average, but his lean body encased in that suit made him look, well… _dashing_. Maybe that was what gave him a sort of… presence. It was what made him even more, well, dashing!

That was, until he spoke.

"I said," the man ground out as he crossed his arms over his chest, "I hope you're going to pay for this." He uncrossed his arms and pointed outrageously to his newly brown-stained shirt. "You completely ruined it! It's brand new!"

Rukia's eyes widened and she could feel her temper rising with each word he spoke, "I'm sorry," she snarled, using her most threatening, lawyer-like voice, "But I didn't spill the coffee on you, you did that all by yourself."

The man took one step forward and dug a hand into the breast pocket of his blazer. His fingers tugged out a small, stiff, piece of paper. "You must be blind," he snorted as he wiped the piece of paper on his relatively dry thigh. "Because I was just walking when you bumped your tiny midget body into mine, _kid_."

Rukia's eyes bugged and her mouth dropped open. Her mind completely forgot about looking like she was in control. The vein in her temple was now throbbing with more than a slight hangover. This—this _stranger_ had the nerve to insult someone he didn't even know! What's more, he expected her to _pay_ for his _dry cleaning_ because of an _accident?_ Who the hell did this guy think he was?

For the first time in a very long while Rukia let her façade of cooled indifference slip away. Her jaw dropped open and her eyes seethed from her head. "_What?_" She cried furiously. She took three quick steps forward and raised her hand. She stuck her pointer finger out at him and snapped, "I was minding my own business and _you_ walked into _me_! It's a fairly large street and I'm assuming that someone like you would be able to _move out of the way_!" She emphasized the last five words with sharp jabs to his chest and fought the ever-loving urge to stomp her foot on the ground.

He really was tall, Rukia noted again with angry disdain, so tall, in fact, that her nose was only in line with his collarbone. Still, no matter their difference in height, Rukia gritted her teeth together and channeled all of her frustration and irritation into believing that she was six foot ten, towering over him, glaring at him with her full strength. This normally worked when she dealt with male clients who believed all women should be barefoot and pregnant at home and not doing a man's job in the business world.

The man with the brightly lit head of hair stood still for a moment and stared down at her, something similar to incredulity was plastered over his face. Rukia watched him as he blinked once, twice, and then wrinkled his eyes into a large frown. His slightly askew expression was replaced with a cold sneer and he took a menacing step forward.

"You," he began in a low and gravelly voice, "Ran into me. I had nothing to do with it."

"Really?" Rukia spat, crossing her arms over her chest and sending him a withering glare, "I should think that it takes two people to bump—"

"More like ram," he interrupted acerbically.

Rukia continued as if she couldn't hear him, "Into one another." She scoffed and solidified her stance, "Besides, you're taller than I am, weren't you supposed to see it coming?"

A smug grin appeared on his lips, "Well, I suppose since you are such a midget I might have just passed over your range of vision."

Rukia saw red.

She could not remember the last time she had balled her fists in such absolute anger. Hell, she couldn't even remember when she had last been this furious with another human being! This man had ruined her suit, insulted her height, and even called her a kid—a kid! Her, Rukia Kuchiki!

"You idiotic bastard!" She screeched, completely forgetting her surroundings.

The man gave a short bark of laughter before bending down and placing his face dangerously close to hers. Rukia could feel her cheeks heating in anger and embarrassment—she hadn't had a man this close to her in months—only to have her humiliation increased even more because she knew he could see her blush.

"How original," he sneered, "Does the writer's guild know about you?"

To the side of her face, his hand flicked out and in the next second Rukia felt his long fingers come dangerously close to her waist. Her eyes widened exponentially when she felt his fingers slipping inside of her pocket. His face was so close to hers… she could almost feel the heat radiating from him.

Rukia only vaguely realized that she was leaning backwards. Her spine was curved until her hair wasn't falling calmly onto the back of her head but instead dropping down into the air. She was sure that her cheeks were a flaming shade of scarlet. Good God, even her breathing was getting quicker. What the fuck was going on here?

Suddenly he was gone; in less than a second he had stepped well over six feet away from her, a widening smirk was plastered over his entire face. Rukia blinked several times before she could come to grips with the fact that she was just standing on the sidewalk, leaning back like an idiot, after being humiliated by a man she didn't even know.

Rukia shook her head and felt her jaw drop. What in the world just happened? She blinked several times before quickly turning her body and looking around the courtyard. He was nowhere to be seen. Her eyes simply kept expanding as she swiveled, searching for some trace of that ridiculously orange head of hair. A few people who passed her gave her strange glances—some of them she even knew from around the office—but she was oblivious to them. It was only until she had spent a full two minutes blinking and aimlessly turning that she realized she must look like a sputtering fish, left out of the water too long. Her mind was so fuddled; she didn't know what to do other than look for the man who had made her feel like a three year old sneaking a cookie from the forbidden cookie jar.

After a few more minutes of simply swiveling like an idiot, Rukia swallowed and bent down to pick up her briefcase. She barely registered the remaining coffee stain on her shirt and began walking towards Gotei Corp. without casting a single glance down at clothing.

It was only after she had gotten to the front door that she registered something small, hard, and slightly flexible inside her pocket. Rukia frowned, it was the same place the man had touched her when he had been so close. She reached down into her jacket and pulled out… a _business _card?

Rukia flipped it over and read the message:

_Ichigo Kurosaki_

_Corporate Attorney; Suigetsu Inc._

It gave a phone number, an extension, and a fax number. Rukia gave a quick look to the insignia next to the name of the company and balked at its verisimilitude.

After a few moments her fingers began to grip the damn thing tight; her mind went blank and her eyes saw furious red—again.

Her stride augmented in time with her livid temper. She had one fist clenched around the business card and the other around the handle of her briefcase. Her jaw was set into a fuming line and her eyes were a vivid and angry hue.

God help Ichigo Kurosaki if she ever saw him again.

**(A/N: ****Two things: if you know what the title means then kudos for you. It has absolutely nothing to do with the story. I just thought it was a cool title for this fic. Plus it's an awesome painting by Ingres. Art History geek, sorry. :P**

**And to all those Hitsu/Hina fans, this is my first time ever writing that pairing—even if it **_**is**_** more to the side—so just a heads up.**

**Wow, that was long. Hope you enjoyed the chapter!**

**Remember, if you don't like my story then it wasn't written for you.**

**Review! Review! Review!)**


	3. Chapter 2

**Disclaimer: I do not own Bleach or any Bleach affiliates.**

_**Odalisque**_

**Chapter 2**

Rukia Kuchiki walked into the office that morning sporting a coffee-stained shirt and jacket, a crumpled business card, a bottle of extra strength Tylenol gripped in her hand, and an infuriated expression on her face.

Her footsteps were quick and to the point. Anyone who saw her face knew enough about self preservation not come within ten feet of the furious woman. Rukia just stared straight ahead as woman and man alike slid to the sides of the hallway, squashed themselves against doors, and ran into other people just to get out of her way. Her heels clicked dangerously on the ground and her fingers were fisted tight around her briefcase as she continued on her journey to her seventeenth floor corner office.

She approached the elevators and one became available almost immediately, as if the machines themselves even feared her impending wrath. There was no one inside of the elevator and even if there had been they would have had the good sense to leave as soon as the indomitable and intimidating Rukia Kuchiki stepped aboard. Her teeth were clenched tight and her violet eyes were blazing with anger as she stared pointlessly at the wall in front of her. The elevator moved upwards and dinged one by one as floors passed by, it didn't stop once.

The moment she reached floor number seventeen Rukia barreled out of the elevator faster than an Olympic athlete. She gave a clipped greeting to the floor secretary and continued on to her office. She passed a few of the people she worked with but didn't spare them a single glance, most of them weren't here anyway, it was far too early for that. Though the ones that were here didn't seemed troubled as she pushed and shoved past them—they were far too used to her moods and attitudes to be bothered by them.

Rukia clenched her teeth as she finally reached the end of the long hallway. She pushed open the door and stomped inside.

The familiarity of her large office met her with its usual chilled welcome. The morning sunlight poured onto the dark green carpeting underneath her feet and her heels squished silently on the ground as she moved towards her large desk. Her desktop computer was situated on top, along with an array of office supplies, all of them neatly organized to her specific clarifications. She quickly placed her briefcase on the side of her metallic and modern desk—it was silver and had the elegant curves that resembled something or an art nouveau design. The glass top made it even more spectacular—if not more difficult to keep clean.

Rukia grunted angrily as she took a few minutes to mindlessly rearrange the pencils, pens, sticky-notes, and paperclips sitting on her desk. She couldn't believe that she was still so angry. Normally when she was confronted with a person as idiotic as a pile of rocks she would calm herself down within the next few minutes. But that—that—_thing_ was still chewing on the edges of her mind.

Rukia suddenly felt her fingers curling into a fist before she angrily brought them down hard on the top of her desk.

"That irritating fool!" She shouted into the empty air. Rukia raised a hand to her face and felt her cheeks—they were still flushed. She scowled and wrinkled her nose in anger. She shouldn't be feeling like this. She was Rukia Kuchiki for god's sake! She knew how to control her temper—and the rest of her emotions—better than anyone!

Still fuming—but what else was new?—Rukia made her way over to the edge of her office and began to prepare her small coffee pot. Her hands move mechanically over the tiny paper filters and her fingers casually gripped the spoon as she poured the grinds inside.

Once she finished she went back over to her desk and sat in her overtly squishy chair. She sighed as her body seemed to sink down into its leathery softness. She always loved this chair; the day seemed to go by so much faster when she was inside it.

Gently, she raised her left hand and one by one unclasped the fingers. The decimated business card fell from her grip and she listlessly swiped it into the metallic waste bin near her side. It floated to the top and Rukia watched in pleasure as the damn thing settled. Now it would only be a matter of hours before the maintenance men would come and take it away. With that business card would float away the irritating memories of that man and her horrid encounter with him. Yes… it was only a matter of time.

As she waited for her computer to boot up, Rukia took the time to try and cleanse her mind a bit. She sat there, breathing deeply, feeling the air come in and out of her lungs at a pleasant pace. Her hands gently smoothed over the sides of her chair and she smiled at the softness under her fingers. She leaned her head back just a bit and had to fight the yawn that was threatening her tired body. She shouldn't have been up that late, doing that stupid thing—

Rukia blinked for a moment before she straightened. A rueful grin crept over her features and she glanced quickly towards the business card in the trash. Perhaps this mornings' encounter wasn't _completely_ bad. It had, after all, gotten her mind off of that stupid online dating thing Momo had set up for her.

The coffee machine sputtered to a halt and Rukia jumped up to get herself the first cup. Her tired bones practically creaked but she was determined not to let her awkwardness show. She had a meeting with her boss today and she wanted to look as sprightly as ever when he came—hence the ensuing quadriceps stretches as she poured her beverage.

The morning was filled with blanket normalcies. She sat down, reviewed the case load she might be receiving for the month, decided which ones she would actually need to handle personally, decided which ones she could throw to her vast array of lawyerly minions, and decided whether or not she wanted to order click-top pens or twisting bottom ones.

By nine that morning Rukia had gone through a quarter of the cases, had picked out about twelve she needed to take on herself, chose the click-top pens, and had designated which cases would go to which minion. All in all it was a rather productive morning; it was all partly in relevance of the knowledge that once her secretary showed up, Rukia would not have a moment's peace until she was called down to meet Ukitake.

Rukia kept glancing periodically at the clock until the digital numbers blinked nine in the morning. Almost immediately, Momo Hinamori came bounding through the door.

Rukia's eyes narrowed as she eyed Momo's meticulously tied bun, her apple cheeks, her happy grin, and her dreamy eyes.

Oh yeah, she had _so_ gotten laid last night.

"Good morning Boss Lady." She said with a chipper grin gracing her face as she sauntered inside.

Rukia sat stiffly in her chair as Momo set her small, designer bag on the counter next to the coffee pot and helped herself to a cup. She hummed softly to herself as she added sugar, cream, and a bit of milk before stirring it lightly with a plastic spoon. Momo knew Rukia well enough to make sure the spoon was placed on a napkin and not on the countertop directly.

Nevertheless, Momo ignored her associates' frigid gaze and lightly skipped to the chair directly opposite of Rukia. She smiled beatifically and took a sip. Her eyes never once lost their dreamy expression as she sighed and murmured, "Isn't life just _great_?"

Rukia swiveled around to her computer and pulled up a useless game of free cell. "For you, maybe."

Momo continued to stare off into space. Rukia eyed her with a hint of jealously and scoffed. Please… it couldn't have been _that_ good.

Rukia clicked an ace up into one of its slots and began to organize the cards. Momo continued with the coffee and chuckled lightly at the memory of her previous night.

She must have sighed at least seven times before Rukia barked at her to shut up. Momo only smiled and shrugged before she asked her boss if she had finished last night's questionnaire.

The tension in Rukia's hand increased until she was fairly sure her computer mouse cracked under the pressure. She shot Momo a withering glare and wrinkled her perky nose.

Her friend simple let out a happy chuckle. "You know," she began, "But I actually should thank you for that, you know."

Rukia gave her a calculating glower. "And why is that, exactly?"

Momo giggled and breezily flipped a loose piece of hair behind her ear. "Well… you know how Toshiro can't get back to sleep after he wakes up in the middle of the night? So we—"

Rukia let out an aggravated groan and held up her hand. "Please Momo," she begged, "No more details."

The woman pouted and leaned forward until her elbows were resting on her knees. She sipped her drink again and let out a small whine. "Why not?" She asked, "You know I like to give you the down and dirty about what Toshiro and I do."

"I know," Rukia answered flatly, "Trust me, I think I know more about your sex life than _you_ do."

"Honey," Momo sighed, "Until you feel it… you don't _know_ it."

Rukia rose from her chair and scowled at Momo; the silly girl had another dreamy look on her face and would even shudder occasionally. Rukia grimaced as she took her cup from her desk and made her way over to the coffee maker to fill it once again. Damn, she must have been stressed, three cups of coffee all before ten.

She told herself—again—not to be bothered by Momo's constant prattling over her relationship with Toshiro. But honestly, did the woman have to tell her everything about… well, _everything_?

The answer to that was, of course, yes. In the beginning it had been fine, Rukia had weathered the flowers and the jewels and the constant dates. But when the two had started sleeping together, well, that was when Momo began to feel the need to tell Rukia all of the details.

_All_ of them.

Rukia had tried to tell her friend—repeatedly—that she didn't really want to know what parts of her body Toshiro had touched, where he had kissed her, or in what position they had done it. Yet having the position of 'best friend' meant that she was compelled to listen to all of it.

_All_ of it.

Still, Momo knew better than to irritate Rukia with sex talk on her bad days—which were becoming more and more frequent. Today—seeing how it started out—was one of those days. Momo, however, didn't seem to notice.

"Doggie style," she whispered huskily.

"Slut," Rukia snorted.

"Don't tease," Momo sighed, too happy to be bothered by Rukia's comment. "We'd never done it before." She twisted in her chair and gave her friend a suggestive grin, "I swear, he went in further than I had ever—"

"Momo!" Rukia cried, slamming her cup down onto the table. She whirled around to face her friend and gritted her teeth. "I do _not_ need to know this!"

Momo gave her the same chastising glare a mother would give a belligerent daughter. "Rukia," she cooed, "Come on, if I don't tell you what happens during sex, how are you going to be prepared for your blind date?"

"I won't sleep with him." Rukia grunted. She poured her coffee with more force than necessary and bits of it splashed onto the counter. She wiped them away quickly and turned to stomp back towards her desk.

Momo's eyes appraised her figure as Rukia sat back into her comfortable chair. She frowned, cocked her head to the side, and raised an eyebrow. "Rukia… why is your shirt stained?"

Rukia scowled and wrinkled her nose when she remembered this morning's incident. Orange hair. Scowling face. Rude demeanor. All around asshole. She had to fight not to let her gaze to go the waste bin to where his card lay on top of the crumpled heap.

"I bumped into someone this morning." She said shortly and gave Momo a glare that warned her about asking another question.

But of course, she was Momo, and asking was what she was she did.

"And they spilled their coffee on you?" She shook her head and her loosely made bun waggled a bit. "That wasn't very nice."

"Yes…" Rukia seethed, "I know." She sat for a moment and felt this morning's events run past her mind. The anger was boiling inside of her once again. She sighed and raked a hand through her hair. Maybe she would go running during her lunch break and try to work out some of this frustration.

She looked down at herself and grimaced at the large brown stain marring her perfectly white shirt. She sighed and reached down to the bottom of her desk drawers. Once it was pulled open, several clean shirts, all neatly folded, were exposed. Rukia chose the top one and stood. Momo saw what her friend had gotten from the bottom of the desk and laughed immediately; she rolled her eyes and began to tease Rukia about how _normal_ people did not keep extra shirts in their desk drawers.

Rukia ignored her and shucked off her jacket. She laid it carefully over the chair before looking around her office to see that no one was really around. Rukia gave Momo a soft glare and her friend rolled her eyes theatrically. Rukia was about to give her a scathing lecture but Momo finally turned her head to the side when Rukia began to pull the small plastic buttons from the holes of her shirt. She peeled the fabric away and tossed it across the back of her chair.

Momo took a moment to turn her head back and hoot evocatively. Rukia shot her a scornful look but Momo only smiled and sweetly asked her boss if she wanted dollar bills to be stuffed into her brazier.

"Sorry," Rukia muttered sarcastically, "Only twenties and above."

"Ouch," Momo laughed, "High price to pay for such a tiny woman."

"Yes well," Rukia sighed as she slipped her arms into the sleeves of her new shirt and began to button it. "Just because I haven't dated in a while doesn't mean I haven't memorized the Kama Sutra." She gave Momo a sly glance and fastened the tiny plastic circles at his wrist.

"Can I borrow it?" Her friend asked with more enthusiasm than was to be expected.

Rukia frowned and folded her dirty shirt. "I thought that you and Toshiro were happy enough without all that extra stuff."

"Hon, sex can only get better as time goes on and seriously, the boy at the newsstand thinks I'm a slut because of all the Cosmo I read. I need something a little more legitimate."

Rukia looked at her dryly. "I burned it back in college when my brother came for that surprise visit. Do you remember?"

Momo blinked and curled her eyebrows in, "Was that the one time when you made me wear _your_ clothes?" She paused and tapped a finger on the chair. "Yeah, didn't you do that so your brother wouldn't think I was a whore?"

"Yep." Rukia answered without a trace of apology in her voice.

"My clothes were not whorish." Momo defended primly and squirmed in her seat. A slow smile grew over her face. "At least… they weren't until my breasts grew in."

"I know that," Rukia responded nonchalantly, "But honestly, if you're not wearing a turtle neck and long pants my brother will immediately think you're easy."

Silence enveloped them for a moment and Rukia was glad for it. She was quite sure that Momo had drifted back into la-la land but didn't mind. The longer Momo was distracted the longer she had time to formulate an excuse for not doing the online dating profile. However, that wasn't the thing on her mind at the moment. She was intrigued by her upcoming meeting with her boss. Normally, Ukitake just let her deal with cases on her own, with very little intervention on his part; he only really came to check up on her when he needed to give her specific details on a client, prep her for a tough courtroom battle, or congratulate her on a job well-done. Rukia thought it was beneficial for both sides, seeing as how his health wouldn't allow him to take on a major case load and her driving ambition made it clear that a major case load was what she wanted.

She mentally ran through a list of cases she had won over the past couple of weeks. None of them were overtly large and most of them had been kept under the table and out of the presses. Well, a couple had been in the paper but none had come close to the front page. She also ran through the possibility that she had done something wrong concerning a client. After a moment she immediately dismissed the idea. She hadn't made a mistake. She would never make a mistake with a client. She was sure of it.

A giggle rifted through the air and Rukia looked across her desk at Momo. The damned woman had her eyes shut tight and was gently running a hand over her stomach. She had a wicked smile on her face and Rukia's eyes widened as Momo's hand inched upward to her own breast.

"Toshiro…" she whispered in a giddy voice.

"Momo!" Rukia snapped.

Her secretary's eyes popped open and she blinked wildly for a moment before glancing down at her hand. She saw how dangerously close it was to her breast and burst out into a happy giggle. Rukia rolled her eyes as her overly-joyous friend stood and smoothed out her skirt. "Goodness…" she said and blushed shamelessly.

Rukia had the good sense to look away with a disgusted snort. "Yeah," she grunted and waved a hand at her friend. "Just get outside will you?"

Momo gave her boss a quick curtsey before chuckling and saying, "Yes Boss Lady." She left Rukia's office with an enormous grin on her face.

"Don't let that happen again!" Rukia barked as the door swung shut behind Momo.

She was only met with a taciturn 'maybe!'

Rukia shook her head and fell back into her desk chair. Honestly, she had known Momo since college and the woman still failed to surprise her on a daily basis. Rukia let a small smile twist her lips slightly. If she didn't have Momo she didn't know what she would do. Momo was one of the only reasons she ever went out in the evenings and Rukia was appreciative enough to recognize that if it weren't for Momo… well, frankly she'd never leave her office. She would always have too much work or too little time or not be in the mood and so many others. Momo was her annoying little savior from all of that.

Part of her didn't even know why Momo had stuck with her for so long. Rukia wasn't the most acquiescent type of person. She was stubborn, bitter, and worked far too much. Perhaps that what Momo found fascinating. Rukia sighed when she thought of it, maybe Momo thought of her as some sort of project.

"Reform the reject." Rukia mumbled softly.

Oh well, it wasn't like she had any real intention of changing. She liked the way she was Momo had only to accept that fact.

Rukia continued checking on her files until her clock finally roved around to ten of ten. She quickly got up from her chair, slipped on her jacket, and strode confidently towards her secretary.

"Momo," Rukia said as she exited her office, the young woman looked up from her dreamy pose and sighed softly.

"Yes?"

Rukia fixed her sleeves and looked in the direction of the elevator. A couple of people—upon seeing her look their way—stopped meandering about and began to power-walk towards a new destination. Rukia snickered inside and praised her ability to scare the shit out of people; it must have been some sort of power gifted to the Kuchiki family.

"I'm going to Ukitake's office." Rukia stated briskly. "He wanted to see me about something." She narrowed her eyes and pointed a threatening finger at her secretary. "So make sure you take messages and _don't_ drift out into space again. Got it?"

"Alright," Momo answered grumpily.

"Good," Rukia said, her tone was one of finality. She gave Momo a quick smile before trekking down to the elevators.

The way people moved out of her path was not lost on Rukia. She knew she was an intimidating force to deal with. Hell, she'd even go so far as to say that what she lacked in height she made up for in brains… and attitude. She was very to the point, she didn't skirt around what she was trying to say or accomplish, and she most definitely did not take emotions into account when she did her work. She was a lawyer through and through and by god was she proud of it.

A couple of people nodded to her but none said her name. She gave them fleeting glances and curt nods as she moved. The elevator was empty once again but Rukia didn't bother to think about it. She tapped her foot impatiently as the elevator went up and up and up, all the way to the top floor. She stepped out confidently and strode towards where she knew her boss's office would be. A few people gave her strange looks but she ignored them. Rukia was never one to bother with funny looks.

"Good morning Kiyone," Rukia said politely when she came to the front of Ukitake's office.

"Good morning Kuchiki," Kiyone replied, far louder than she actually needed.

"I'm supposed to meet with Ukitake at ten." She said crisply and watched as the boisterous secretary dialed her boss and announced Rukia's arrival.

Kiyone pointed to the door and gave Rukia a huge grin before the raven haired young woman brushed past the desk and opened the door to her boss's office.

"Good morning Mr. Ukitake." Rukia said politely with a small smile.

The elder man gave her a warm grin when she entered and stood slowly. She felt something like contentment fill her body as she walked inside the room.

Jushiro Ukitake was one of the few people in this entire building who didn't make her want to cringe at the sight of them. When she first began at the corporation it was he who helped her get her feet planted firmly on the ground. When she was having difficulty with a case—which was hardly ever if she did say so herself—he was always available for help, and even sometimes when she felt weary enough to go out for a drink he would always accompany her. She enjoyed his company and being under his tutelage. Hell, she would even say that he was the closest thing to a real father she had ever had.

"Rukia," he said warmly, "How are you doing today?"

Rukia smiled softly at his gentle greeting. His voice suited his demeanor. He was an older man, well into his sixties but still quite handsome. His hair was full and thick and completely white. His eyes were a wizened shade of gray and his smile was one of age and perfection. He was tall with broad shoulders which were always clothed in elegant suits, mostly Armani or something even more expensive.

"You wanted to see me sir." It was the statement of a fact, not a question.

"Yes, yes, please," he grinned and took his seat again. Rukia sat down gently and crossed her slim legs elegantly.

"So, how are you today Rukia?" He asked kindly. "Still coming into work absurdly early?"

"Well I don't know about absurdly," Rukia jostled, "But yes, it was a fairly nice morning." She paused and a small dark cloud passed over her eyes. "Well, except for this man I met earlier today."

A look of surprise flittered across Ukitake's face and Rukia had to bitterly tell herself that he was surprised by her bad morning and _not_ by her actually meeting a man.

"Really?" He asked and Rukia nodded slowly, a small but slightly disgusted smile atop her lips. Ukitake leaned back in his chair and steepled his fingers. "What happened?"

Rukia gave an aggravated sigh and shook her head, her tight pony-tail flapped against her neck as she said, "The, er, _jerk_ bumped into me and we spilled our coffee over one another."

"That doesn't sound so bad."

"Well it wasn't until he actually had the gall to demand that I pay for his dry cleaning." Rukia finished dryly. _Jackass_, she added mentally.

"Oh dear," Ukitake said with a small smile still gracing his handsome face. "But you still look as splendid as ever, Rukia."

"Thank you sir." Rukia twisted happily in her seat and almost immediately felt better about this morning. She didn't know how he did it, but her boss could always seem to make her feel better in any situation. "But getting back to business."

Ukitake gave a soft chuckle, "Of course, you were always one to know when to return to matters at hand."

Rukia took that as a compliment.

Ukitake leaned forward in his desk and propped his elbows so his hands could meet near the center. His warm gray eyes became serious as he bored them into her. Rukia's ears perked up, her spine immediately stiffened, and she made sure to lean forward ever so slightly, just so she wouldn't miss a thing.

"Rukia," Ukitake began, "I have something very important to tell you and I want you to know that it must be kept confidential. Only a select amount of people know about what I'm going to tell you and we need to keep it that way. The sake of our business depends on it. Is that clear?"

"Yes sir," Rukia answered instantly, her interest piqued beyond belief. "Of course."

Ukitake drew in a deep breath and coughed lightly. Rukia frowned a bit when he had to draw a small handkerchief from his breast pocket and wipe away bits of saliva from the corners of his mouth. Her eyes darted from his hand to his face but after a moment he stuffed the kerchief back in his pocket, cleared his throat, and began again.

"Rukia," he said, his voice slightly cracked. "This company is going to undergo a merger."

Surprise exploded into Rukia's stomach but she managed to keep the swell of shock from showing on her face. She swallowed hard and blinked twice to make sure her eyes didn't betray her.

Merger? Why? What the hell was going on? Gotei Corp. was a successful business with augmenting profits, their projections for the next two decades were nearly through the roof and the only direction they could go was up.

"Sir," Rukia murmured slowly, attempting to digest this information, "What are you talking about? Why would Gotei Corp. need something like this? We're doing more than fine as it is."

Ukitake smiled, "I knew you'd say that."

Rukia raised a brow, "And?"

"The fact of the matter is that Gotei Corp. is doing just fine on its own, however, our main rival in the industry, Suigetsu Inc. is doing just as well."

"I'm aware of that," Rukia cut in, understanding now what he was going to tell her. "Their projections are just as promising, if not more so; I simply thought we needed to up our game. I never thought we'd actually merge."

"The top executives of this company and of Suigetsu Inc. have decided that it would be best to combine out companies," he continued, "We're trying to make this as amicable as possible. You see, if our businesses continue at the rate they're going—with both of us competing neck and neck—we're either going to end up taking over them or they're going to end up taking over _us_."

"Hostile takeovers you mean," she added, intrigued by this logic.

He nodded and cleared his throat again, "Our main boss, Mr. Yamamoto, has met with Suigetsu's head, Mr. Aizen, they agreed that having this merger would save us from the inevitable."

Rukia furrowed her brow and tapped a finger to her bottom lip. "I see… if one company gets taken over by the other they'll be butchered in the paper, jobs will be lost, popularity will go down, foreign investments will shrink, no one invests in our stock, we lose our status and eventually our credibility."

"In a nutshell."

Rukia paused for a moment and mulled over the possibilities in her mind. While she didn't like the idea of merging with Suigetsu Inc., she did have to admit that there were advantages. Suigetsu was nearly as popular as Gotei. The two of them had been bitter rivals practically since their conception in the early seventies. A well-worn path of animosity was already molded in between the two mogul companies as they grew. Yet if they were able to pull their resources together they would double their profits, increase the amount of worldwide investors, and perhaps even lessen the job deficit among the neighborhood.

Rukia remained silent for a few moments; the more she thought about it, the better all of it sounded.

"I think you're right," Rukia murmured.

_Wow,_ that's_ not something I say everyday._

Ukitake nodded and grinned, "Sounds better by the minute, doesn't it?"

She nodded and raised her gaze to that of her boss. "It does, actually," She sighed and began to list the reasons why the merger would be beneficial to both companies. Ukitake listened to her patiently, even though she could tell he had already thought long and hard on the variables.

They spoke for a while on the subject of the merger; Rukia's analysis was mixed with Ukitake's and his comments added color to their discussion. She laid out the facts, spoke of the benefits, yet warned him of what a move would entail. They continued until it was nearly eleven o'clock. Rukia's mind was completely fixated on the idea of the merger; still, something kept nagging repeatedly at the back of her mind.

Frowning, she bit her lip and demanded, "Ukitake, why are you telling me all of this? I would think that this news should be handled by the higher ups and, while I appreciate your obviously elevated opinion of me, I don't think I'm quite there." _Yet, _she added mentally.

"Excellent question Rukia," her boss said cheerfully. He rose from his chair and offered her a cup of coffee. She accepted gladly and sipped lightly—mentally noting that this was cup number four—while he sat back at his chair. A small, playful, grin was dancing on his lips and Rukia's suspicions were immediately aroused.

"What?" She asked softly, setting her cup down on his old oak desk.

Ukitake sipped his drink elegantly before setting his down as well. He swung his gaze towards her completely and allowed his stare to bore into her eyes. Rukia matched him equally and waited with slightly bated breath for him to announce whatever he was holding back.

"Rukia Kuchiki," he said in a deep and soulful voice, "As you know, mergers take months of paperwork and hours of constant hassle between companies—well, at least the peaceful ones do."

"Right," she answered slowly.

Ukitake gave her a smug grin, "I want you to be the lead council when it comes to any and all documents pertaining to the legal convergence of these two companies."

If Rukia had had any coffee in her mouth she wouldn't have been able to keep it trapped behind her lips.

"Sir?" She blanched.

He grinned widely at her reaction and let out a merry laugh. Rukia's cheeks colored slightly but she told herself it was from the sudden news and definitely not from any form of embarrassment. "Sir, are you certain? Mr. Yamamoto has approved it?"

"Indeed he has," he answered happily. "Let me tell you something Rukia." He grinned even more and leaned forward just a bit. Rukia did so as well, as though she was magnetically attracted to him. "You are, without a doubt, one of the most talented and gifted lawyers I have ever had the pleasure of working with. You're brilliant inside the courtroom as well as out, you have fantastic business skills and can make any client swoon at your feet whenever you wish."

Rukia told herself not to let this go to her head.

"Honestly Rukia, if you weren't so damned young you'd be in my spot right now."

Okay, maybe a little could go to her head.

Ukitake couldn't seem to stop grinning as he continued, "I've talked with Yamamoto, and it turns out that he's been watching you as closely as I have and he agrees that you're fantastically talented and quite capable of handling this merger. He's agreed to let you deal with this transaction. Now, it is my hope that once the merger is a success, I can finally convince Yamamoto to promote you to my spot so I can retire with the peace of mind knowing that my office will not crumble in my absence."

Rukia could no longer breathe. Her heart was pounding so hard in her chest she felt like it was going to burst right out from inside her ribs. She was quite sure her face was flushed with excitement—or praise, she couldn't tell which—and she even dared to notice that her hands were trembling slightly.

_This is not the time to look like a silly little school girl!_ Her inner self hissed irritably.

Rukia fought the urge to shake her head so she might discover that this was not a dream. All of these seemed too fantastic to be real. She was only twenty six! She had only been working here for a short time! She was—she was—

Hell! She was a damned good lawyer and they knew it. Since she started working here she had gained the company billions in lawsuits and had not lost them a single penny. She worked quickly, effectively, and more often than anyone ever should. She knew that she was the best person for this job. She _deserved_ this.

"Ukitake," she croaked, "I would be… _honored_ to accept this. You have my word, nothing—and I mean _nothing_—will go wrong. I will personally inspect every single sheet of paper, every signature, and every document myself. I swear this will be done without fault."

Ukitake smiled warmly. "I have utmost confidence in you, Rukia, but don't fret. You won't be working on this alone."

Rukia's large grin—when had she started grinning? She hardly ever grinned—faltered for a moment but swung back immediately. "Well, of course not, there will be a team but nevertheless—"

"Rukia," Ukitake interrupted, "Suigetsu Inc. also wants to make sure that everything is done efficiently, they're sending us their top lawyer as well. You two will be working together."

Rukia's high was dangerously close to popping but she maintained in nonetheless. "Alright," she said confidently, "I don't mind. Two minds are better than one." _Unless it's my mind,_ she spat mentally, _then I don't need another one._ "Who is this other person I'll be working with?" She asked, "Do I know them?"

"Him." Ukitake corrected and Rukia groaned inwardly. Great, another chauvinistic male pig to deal with, just what she always wanted. "He's nearly as young as you and just as passionate about his work. A bit brash at times not to mention on several occasions he has completely disregarded the law in order to get what his company wants. Quite a risk taker as well as a rule breaker."

"Fantastic," Rukia intoned acerbically. She already hated the man. Anyone who could ignore the law for their own selfish purposes—or a larger paycheck—immediately ranked lower than fish feces in her book. "What's his name?" She asked. She wanted to do some background research on this guy. She needed to know everything about him if she was going to be working with him: strengths, weaknesses, likes, dislikes, pet peeves, and anything else that she was germane.

"Rather funny one actually," Ukitake chuckled, "But when you get a look at him make sure not to laugh."

Rukia frowned, "Why not?" She asked slowly; her brain was taking dangerous turns and going in directions she didn't want it to go.

"Well," Ukitake grinned, "His name is Ichigo Kurosaki, which, as you might know, means strawberry, and he has the most ridiculously colored hair. You could spot it anywhere on the planet. Bright orange and everyone testifies that it's natural, I kid you not…"

Rukia's boss kept speaking but her mind had gone blank, her eyes were glazed, and at the current moment her stomach seemed to be uncomfortably filled with writhing snakes.

The only word that was making it through Rukia Kuchiki's subconscious at the moment was: _Fuck_.

**(A/N: Ichigo might be perceived as OOC in this fic. But when I think of 'Older Ichigo' I think of what he becomes after his awkward teenager stage. I mean, can't you just see Ichigo as a cocky (in **_**both**_** senses of the word), confident, and sexually assertive man? I think that once he gets over being a blushing teenager he'll wake up and realize he's a sexy piece of hotness. Fans self. :P **

**Remember, if you don't like my story then it wasn't written for you. :D **

**Review please!)**


	4. Chapter 3

**Disclaimer: I do not own Bleach or any Bleach affiliates.**

_**Odalisque**_

**Chapter 3**

_That morning…_

Ichigo Kurosaki woke that morning with a hangover throbbing in his temples and an unidentified blond lying beside him.

Granted, it wasn't a bad way to wake up, considering that the blond was smoking hot and had a rack the size of the Gobi Desert. _I did really good last night_. He thought wearily as he turned to his side and squinted at the clock. It was already six in the morning. He cursed angrily and berated himself for not setting the alarm for an earlier time. Ichimaru had told him yesterday that he needed to be at work early because there was some "vitally important information" he needed to hear.

Ichigo grunted and moved a hand over his face. His palm was scratched with his scraggly morning shadow and he blinked several times to try and clear the sleep from his eyes. He moved swiftly away from the bed without any regard for the woman still sleeping inside of it. She grumbled softly and turned, hugging the pillow even tighter as the sheet slipped down further, exposing her golf-ball sized nipples in the process. Ichigo stood stark naked to the side for a moment and analyzed the blond in the bed.

She was cute, good figure, long hair, humongous breasts, lips that had clearly been injected with something, a tiny waist, and killer calf muscles. He had noticed those little beauties when she had wrapped them around his waist as he pummeled into her. Ichigo frowned and cocked his head to the side; she was a bit too… _whiny _though. She had made all these breathy, high-pitched, squeaky noises while he was fucking her, and that was just distracting.

All in all, she was _maybe_ a six out of ten.

He moved to the bathroom with the speed of a drugged sloth. The woman on the bed—wasn't she that Norwegian supermodel who had been all over him at the club last night?—gave out a little snort. He turned the water on in the shower and waited for it to warm up. He needed to get out of here fast so he didn't have to deal with that morning-after awkwardness.

Not that he was a stranger to it or anything, he simply preferred letting the Unidentified Woman do her own thing versus the 'I'll-call-you-later' scenario. The latter was always made more difficult due to the fact that he ever rarely remembered anyone's number… well, that and he purposely didn't write any of them down. Although, sometimes he had to remember to hide many of the more valuable items in his apartment in order for the "up-and-leave routine" to work successfully.

He let the warm water cascade down his body and slowly shook away the lethargic feelings from last night. He remembered now; yesterday was Sunday, a rather irresponsible night for clubbing but a great band he had been dying to see had been playing so he insisted. Hell, he had even gotten Uryu to go with him and Chad. They had gone to a relatively new club, called _Pulse_, the hottest of the hot were there, including, of course, the young and—if he could say so himself—sexually attractive corporate attorney for Suigetsu Incorporated—Ichigo Kurosaki.

He had been hit on almost immediately, him and his friends, Uryu Ishida, and Chad Yasutora. By the end of the night he drank, danced, and had apparently done a Norwegian supermodel.

He briskly rubbed soap over his body and through his hair. Oh well, it wasn't like this was a freak occurrence; he got laid almost every single time he went out with his friends. It was like he was a woman magnet.

He stepped out of the shower and got a towel from the rack. He took a moment to wipe off the mirror and examine his neck. He couldn't remember if the little minx had bitten him or not, and he certainly didn't want to have teeth marks on his person when he came to meet his boss. He looked closer. No, there wasn't anything there; good, a possibly uncomfortable situation had been averted.

Good thing too, he already had a reputation around the office for being something of a "player." But honestly, it wasn't like it was his fault. Women just seemed to throw themselves at him, if they wanted what he could give them, why shouldn't he oblige? A small smirk formed on Ichigo's face as he towel-dried the rest of his hair and came back out into his bedroom. The blond was still sleeping, and even snoring a bit, Ichigo looked down at the carpet. His clothes were all in a neat pile beside the bed whereas hers were scattered all over the place. He glared down at them for a moment and wrinkled his nose. She had been wearing _that_? Wow, he must have gotten lucky last night.

Ichigo moved to his dresser and pulled out a pair of boxers and a fresh pair of pants. The shirt, coat, and tie soon followed and he put them on quickly enough. His hair was still slightly wet but he didn't mind. It wouldn't settle even if he decided to comb it.

He left the apartment with his briefcase in hand. He didn't bother to make coffee because he knew if the blond smelled it she would be up and crooning for his number. He'd just get some on the way.

He reached the elevator in his building and pushed the button that would get him down to the car lot and his beautiful Mercedes Benz. There was no one else up this early so he concentrated on what his boss might want to tell him today.

The most obvious reason for this chat was a promotion. It wasn't like he had done anything wrong in the past couple of months—well, besides sleep with a couple of his coworkers, but that was, once again, _not_ his fault.

But seriously, if he did need to talk to him about something it would most likely be a promotion. Ichigo had been working for this company for a little bit over a year now, he knew the ins and outs of the business, and it wasn't like he hadn't gotten Suigetsu Inc. fifteen profitable companies in the last seven months.

He grinned, apparently, he was the youngest man in the history of Suigetsu Inc. to have gained so much in so little time. He shrugged off his own smirk of self congratulation and moved from the elevator to his car. Yeah, he was a good lawyer, a damn good one and they knew it. He had what they called charisma. Once he walked into a room he had businesses begging to be acquiesced within minutes. He was smart, he was talented, and he was handsome—in a roundabout way. Not to mention he was an asset to Suigetsu Inc.

He just couldn't wait to get to work today.

His car engine purred as he pulled up to a drive through window and ordered a cup of coffee. The young woman who was serving him let her jaw go slack once she saw him and his car. Ichigo gave her a smirk before revving the engine and pulling out, coffee in hand.

One of the things that preceded and defined him as a top corporate lawyer was his reputation. It was there no matter where he went, what boardroom he was argued in, or what courtroom he fought inside. His reputation was one of the key pieces to his success. And when all of the variables were considered, it wasn't all that good of a reputation either. There were two actually, his business reputation and his _other _reputation, both of which were brought to the surface many times.

He couldn't help it if people thought he was arrogant, irritating, and womanizing. He wasn't really, but he knew when to get and give praise, he knew that he was smart and that he was a valued member of his company, he knew that he had earned the right to be smug from endless sleep-deprived nights back in high school and college, forcing himself to remain inside—and thus abstinent—just so he could do better on a test, graduate faster, and become the man his father had always wanted him to be.

So, arrogant, yes, but he sure as hell earned it. He didn't spend his college years wasting himself away at some drunken frat house and barely graduating. He was irritating, yes, but only when he was driving himself to accomplish something he wanted. He was a womanizer because, well… he supposed he was just making up for lost time.

Ichigo parked his car in a lot near the Suigetsu Inc. building and shoved himself out of the driver's seat. His smugness returned as he peered up at the building towering in the morning sky. His eyes subconsciously edged up until he reached the twentieth floor. Right there on the corner was his office. A self-satisfied grin reached his lips and he chuckled, twenty seven years old and he already had a corner office.

He continued onto the street, barely watching where he was going. He was the type of person who didn't bother to move out of other people's paths. Normally, because of his bright orange hair people noticed him immediately and moved out of _his _way. Which he enjoyed very much, it helped add to that whole power-trip thing. Smirking, he kept drinking his coffee, still contemplating what his boss was going to tell him today.

What he didn't notice was a dwarf coming straight into his path.

Something small collided with the side of his body and he grunted in surprise, then yelped when hot—scalding, fucking, _hot_—coffee ran down the center of his pristine shirt and coat. What made it _even_ better was the fact that his body tilted to the side, he lost his balance completely, and his entire body rammed into the sidewalk.

The thing that ran into him had apparently fallen onto the ground as well and by the sound of its voice the damnable thing was a girl. She cursed loudly enough for the both of them and scrambled up. Ichigo, not wanting to be left on the ground, hoisted himself as well, wincing at the freakishly hot fabric sticking to his chest.

"I hope you're going to pay for this." He snarled as he pulled his sticky shirt away from his body and attempted to stop the skin on his chest from melting away.

The figure beside him stiffened but Ichigo still paid it no mind. Damn! This was fucking irritating! How was he supposed to make a good impression with Ichimaru if his shirt was covered in brown coffee stains?

"What did you say?"

The tone was low and deadly and for the first time since he had bumped into her, Ichigo raised his gaze to meet that of the girl beside him.

She was… short. Not embarrassingly short or midget height or dwarfish—like he had originally thought—or anything like that, she was just… tiny. She was dressed professionally too. Her small feet were encased in fashionable heels, her slim legs in a tight fitting pencil skirt, and her torso was wrapped in a sharp-looking suit jacket. He noticed that she had a large brown stain on her white shirt as well, only, from his perspective, he could see through the wet material and glimpse the underlying brazier.

_Victoria Secret,_ he thought, _nice…_

At least, that was what had been going through his head, until he got a look at her face.

The woman had the most piercing pair of eyes he had ever seen. They were large and ovoid and a dark, misty shade of violet, navy, lavender, and black—all of the shades swarmed together to create an amazing tint akin to precious stones and expensive fabrics. To go even further, those gorgeous eyes of hers were framed in smooth white skin that looked to be the same consistency of silk, but those eyes—those _mesmerizing_ eyes—were staring at him like he had just committed some kind of unspeakable injustice. He blinked at her before gritting his teeth and narrowing his own eyes. He didn't like the way she was looking at him… Like he was created for the sole purpose of wiping the dirt off of the bottoms of her shoes.

"I said," Ichigo ground out. He crossed his arms over his chest—a tactic he learned intimidated many people—and glared at her viciously. "I hope you're going to pay for this." He took one moment to unfold his arms and point at his ruined shirt. "You completely ruined it! It's brand new!"

The woman's—and it was a woman he had been looking at, not a midget, not a kid, an actual, honest to god woman, hell, she even had curves, they were small ones, but they were still there. But damn, she was just so _tiny_! She looked like she could be a porcelain figurine and here she was, glaring at him like she was ten feet tall and he was only an insect—eyes widened and he watched as her jaw tightened.

"I'm sorry," she snarled, her voice was taking on a tone he didn't like. It made him… hell, it made him _uncomfortable_. He was Ichigo Kurosaki, he didn't get uncomfortable in front of tiny women. "But I didn't spill the coffee on you, you did that all by yourself."

Ichigo felt a squirming of uncertainty in his gut and he knew he needed to take more control of the conversation when it came to this particular she-demon. She wasn't like most of the women he knew… this one had brain cells.

"You must be blind," he snickered as he dug into his breast pocket and yanked out a business car. He wiped it on his thigh to make sure it was relatively dry and grinned when he thought of her reaction. He hadn't even known the woman two minutes and he was already able to label her a prude, a workaholic, an uptight ass, and a person who liked to be in charge all the time. "Because I was just walking when you bumped your tiny midget body into mine, _kid_."

He almost laughed when he saw the reaction he had anticipated. He watched her coolly angry expression fade away into one of fury. Good God, even her eyes widened in time with her dropped jaw. This was fantastic!

"_What?_" She cried.

She took three small steps forward and he suddenly felt her pointer finger stabbing him in the chest. "I was minding my own business and _you_ walked into _me_! It's a fairly large street and I'm assuming that someone like you could be able to _move out of the way_!" Ichigo fought the urge to grab hold of her long and thin finger and yank it away.

"You," he ground out, his temper was augmenting faster than normal. Damn, usually when he dealt with infuriating people he just planted his feet in the ground, glared at them with his infuriatingly wretched scowl, and told them exactly what he thought of them until they cowered away. What was so freaking different about this chick? Was it because she was looking at him the exact same way he was looking at her? No one had ever really done that before…. He mentally growled and continued. "You ran into me. I had nothing to do with it."

"Really?" The woman spat. He locked his jaw as he watched her cross her arms over her chest. She even had the gall to send him a withering glare from those stunning eyes of hers. "I should think that it takes two people to bump—"

"More like ram," he interrupted her and fought the urge to let his jaw drop when she just breezed past his comment. Insolent woman!

"Into one another." She continued. "Besides, you're taller than I am, weren't you supposed to see it coming?"

He supposed that she had meant for the question to be rhetorical but his mouth twisted into a smug grin when he realized the easy opening she had just given him. "Well, I suppose since you _are_ such a midget I might have just passed over your range of vision."

The way her face melted into rage nearly made Ichigo's mask of cool arrogance slip. He felt like laughing at the bewildered young woman now shaking in anger. His eyes slipped down her body where he saw her hands gripping themselves into fists.

"You idiotic bastard!" She screeched.

Ichigo couldn't help himself, he laughed. It was short and pert but it was still there. Oh God, she just looked so ridiculous! This tiny woman—albeit it was a good looking woman—was standing there in a ruined, practically see-through, shirt and looking at him as though he were the antichrist. He just couldn't resist, he saw how her badly enflamed her cheeks were and just leaned forward until his face was exceedingly close to hers. His hand, still holding a business card, reached over to her hip and he brushed it lightly. She jumped a bit and then reddened even more.

His mouth became a sneer and he asked in a low voice, "How original, does the writer's guild know about you?"

He slipped his hand swiftly into her jacket pocket and placed the business card in the silk lining. She was disconcerted at how close he was, of that much he was certain. He grinned once again and marveled at how uncomfortable he was making her feel. He watched as her gaze slipped away from him and took a moment to notice how her back was curved. She was leaning away from him.

Ichigo suddenly stepped back. He pulled himself upright and began walking away. His sudden movements startled the woman but he was already far enough away that when she finally realized he had gone he wasn't able to hear another word from her angry mouth.

Ichigo darted away as quickly as possible. His long stride faded into the background as he felt an undeniably vicious aura emanating from where he left that woman.

As Ichigo walked into the lobby of Suigetsu Inc. he couldn't help but let out a loud and self satisfied laugh.

He deserved it.

-!!-

"Today?" Rukia deadpanned.

Ukitake nodded calmly. "Yes, Gin Ichimaru, who is the head of legal over at Suigetsu Inc., wants to meet with you today."

Rukia's eyes widened just a bit and she blinked once. "Pardon me, sir, but how quickly is this deal going to take place?"

Ukitake leaned back in his chair a bit and tapped his chin in thought, "Well, both companies want it started as quickly as possible but the process will most likely be exceptionally long."

"Exceptionally?" Rukia squeaked. She couldn't imagine working with Ichigo Kurosaki for _that_ long. If he acted the same as how he had this morning then she was in for a couple of long and hellish months.

"Yes, Aizen and Yamamoto want everything to be reviewed with a fine toothed comb. So it could take much longer than traditional mergers."

"Good God." Rukia grunted angrily. She had to fight not to pull her lips into a snarl.

Ukitake frowned softly and inclined his head to the side, "Rukia… is there something wrong? I thought you'd be a bit happier about this account."

Rukia's eyes shot up to her boss's face and she gave him a curt nod, "Of course I'm happy about the account. It's just that I happened to meet Ichigo Kurosaki earlier today and I must say I didn't like him very much."

Ukitake's face fell just a bit but he nodded. "Oh… I see."

Rukia sighed heavily and fought the urge to rub the bridge of her nose. She wouldn't do this to herself. She knew how important this account was to her company, to her boss, and to herself. She had been chosen for this job and she would sure as hell take it. Rukia Kuchiki was no quitter and she didn't intend on ever becoming one. So what if she had to work with the ass from this morning? She could do it. After all, he was just like all of her other male clients—just with abigger brain.

Maybe.

"Don't worry," Rukia said to Ukitake after a moment of silence. She turned to him completely and allowed a vast amount of earnest intent to shine in her eyes. "I want this account. I want your job." She added bluntly.

Ukitake's eyebrow went up.

"I will do my very best on this account, no matter who I have to work with. I promise." Rukia offered a quick grin and stood from her seat. "When do I have to meet with Mr. Ichimaru?"

"Eleven."

"Fantastic," Rukia said through gritted teeth, "I'll get over there as soon as I get a few things from my office."

Ukitake gave his employee an incredulous stare. "Are you always early for everything, Rukia?"

"Pretty much." She reached across the table, grasped her boss's hand, and gave him two very firm shakes. Ukitake told her the room, floor, and office number for Gin Ichimaru's office and told her that the receptionist should be expecting her.

"Thank you sir," Rukia said once again before nodding once and exiting her boss's office.

Rukia walked back to her own office and informed Momo of where she would be going. The younger woman was dazedly sitting at her desk, twirling a pencil between her fingers; her eyes were so far off that Rukia had to shake the poor woman to get her attention.

Once she made sure that all of her calls would have messages when she returned from Suigetsu Inc., Rukia left and began to walk to the adjacent building.

When Suigetsu Inc. was formed in the mid 1980's it decided to build an office complex directly beside that of Gotei Corp. Everyone thought the nearly identical building plans as well as the chosen location was the height of cheek, considering the companies were very intense rivals. But really, Rukia mused, it was probably the reason the companies were doing so well. With both of them being so close together it drove them to be better than the other. Still, the courtyard in between them was the only structure separating the two companies. The rivalry was always intense between them, neither company could deny it.

Nevertheless, Rukia Kuchiki walked briskly into the Suigetsu Inc. building and smiled confidently at the main receptionist before going into the elevator and pushing the button for the floor Ukitake had told her. She checked her watch and found that she was nearly fifteen minutes early. Rukia smirked and repeated the phrase her brother had always taught her: _"You are late if you're on time. You're only on time if you are at least five minutes early."_

Rukia Kuchiki walked with confidence to the office of Gin Ichimaru, completely ready to handle what needed to be dealt with.

-!!-

"What are you smiling about?" Uryu Ishida asked as he stepped into his friend's office.

"Nothing," Ichigo replied as he shot a paper ball at his trashcan. The tiny ball swished through the little basketball net above it fell harmlessly inside. He swiveled in his plush leather chair and looked at his associate.

"You never smile for 'nothing,' Kurosaki." Uryu pointed out dryly.

Ichigo rolled his eyes at that, if anyone would know, it would be Uryu Ishida. He and Ichigo worked for the same company—Ichigo in legal and Uryu in foreign industries—so they worked together quite frequently. Uryu was nearly as young as Ichigo and had been driven through college by his father, who owned and built hospitals all over the world. Ironically enough, Ichigo hadn't liked Uryu that much when he had first met him—the annoying little spidery prick that he was—but after some time they became _something_ akin to friends. They still disliked each other on many levels—for instance, Ichigo had once nearly slept with the woman of Uryu's dreams and he had never forgiven him for it—but there _was_ a type of camaraderie between them that made it easier for them to get along.

Said man pushed his sharp glasses up with his middle finger and gave Ichigo a glare as he continued to space out. "Still thinking about the blond?"

Ichigo frowned and thought back to the woman he had left in his bed. "Um, no. But what was her name again?"

"Elena." Uryu reminded him as he came into the office and sat down in the seat across from Ichigo's desk. "And you screwed her. Rating?"

"Six outta ten," Ichigo sighed and his companion shook his head.

"Shame."

"Don't I know it," Ichigo said sadly.

"At least tell me you kissed her," Uryu said, "Please tell me you've thrown out those stupid rules of yours."

"For random screwing? Are you kidding? The rules must be followed." Ichigo responded harshly.

"Jesus," Uryu muttered, "You're like Julia Roberts in _Pretty Woman_."

"I have testicles."

"Maybe."

"Hey—"

"So what does Ichimaru want with you this morning?" Uryu interrupted nonchalantly.

Ichigo glowered at his friend but answered him anyway. "No clue, but I hope it involves me getting a bigger paycheck." He balled up another piece of paper and tossed it at the waste basket. This one bounced out to the side.

"Come on Kurosaki," Uryu scoffed, "You already have one Benz, you don't need another."

"Wasn't talking about a Benz, _Ishida_, now was I? Although that would be pretty nice." Ichigo propped his feet on his desk and leaned back in his chair.

"What then? What would you possibly need? A mail order bride?"

"Hell no!" Ichigo retorted, still relaxing in his seat. "Why would I want a wife when I can sleep with some Ivanka whenever I want?"

"Elena."

"Whatever."

Uryu sighed and glanced out the windows of Ichigo's office. "You're going to eat your words one of these days, Kurosaki."

"Sure… sure."

Uryu gave Ichigo a quizzical stare and blinked. "You're going to go meet with your boss wearing that? What the hell did you get on it anyway?" He stared pointedly at Ichigo's shirt.

Ichigo looked down at himself and scowled, the memories from this morning came back to him in a flash. "Some bitch dumped her coffee on me this morning." He sighed and tried to banish the thoughts from his mind—well, maybe not the parts where he made that woman blush. That was actually surprisingly entertaining.

"I see," Uryu murmured softly and let his gaze drift in the office. "Kurosaki… what time did Ichimaru want you in his office?"

"Eleven. Why?"

Uryu didn't answer, he simply pointed his spindly fingers at the digital clock on Ichigo's desk. The blinking green lights displayed eight after eleven.

"Shit!" Ichigo grunted. He leapt from his desk and hurriedly pulled on his suit jacket.

Uryu only watched as Ichigo began cursing angrily. He straightened his stained shirt and grimaced when he felt the sticky stiffness of his new shirt. That damn lady had better call him so she could pay for the cleaning.

He walked out of his office without saying another word to Uryu and bolted for the elevator. He entered quickly and immediately pushed the button for the top floor. Ichigo's wait in the elevator was not long and he was out of there in only a matter of moments. He quickly sprinted to his boss's office, earning a couple smirks from coworkers who knew his tardiness habits. Right outside the door Ichigo stopped and made sure his clothes and breathing were in check.

He gave a sharp and perfunctory knock on the door before he swung it open and said, "Sorry I'm late, Mr. Ichimaru, I didn't mean to keep you…"

His eyes swept the room and fell on the two people inside of it. The first was his silver-haired boss with the creepy eyes and the wicked smile. The second person, to his everlasting surprise, also happened to be someone he recognized. It was a woman; short, petite, and with eyes the consistency of churning liquid sapphires.

The woman turned around in her chair and he noticed how her hands immediately tightened on her lap and how her eyes narrowed until they were nearly shut.

"Hello," the woman's voice was like ice filling his veins. "Ichigo Kurosaki."

_Shit_.

**(A/N: ****Don't forget to REVIEW PLEASE!!**

**Remember, if you don't like my story then it wasn't written for you.)**


	5. Chapter 4

**Disclaimer: I do not own Bleach or any Bleach affiliates.**

_**Odalisque**_

**Chapter 4**

Rukia waited for the shock to fade from the insufferable man's face before she congratulated herself on her crafty use of his full name. His face, of course, looked even more hilarious than it had earlier this morning. Was that… ha! She couldn't believe it! His eyebrows were still furrowed even when he was surprised! Damn that's priceless.

Rukia had to smother a laugh when his once-confident stride faltered to a slow halt. He stared at her for a few moments before continuing into the room. His eyes were glued onto her person but occasionally looking over towards his boss.

_And what a creepy boss he is,_ Rukia thought as she shuddered inwardly. The man had a face like a fucking snake. His mouth was curved into a freakishly strange smile and his eyes were pulled on his face until they were barely open. But it was his voice that was the worst, it was smooth and slick and far too deep for a man of his sickly complexion. When Rukia was first saw him—and when she first shook his hand—she immediately wished she could be away from him. Chills simply went up her spine when she was near him… and she hadn't even known him for thirty minutes! Either way, she had to remind herself that she was a Kuchiki, and Kuchiki's did not quake in the presence of stranger men with snake faces.

"Mr. Ichimaru," Kurosaki said slowly as he came further into the room. Rukia jerked herself out of her small reverie and turned her attention back to the man she would be working with. He was giving his boss a strange glare that wasn't hostile but wasn't friendly either.

_Serves you right… bastard._ Rukia thought ruefully.

"I'm sorry but I thought this would be a meeting between the two of us." He said as he came forward and shook his superior's hand. Rukia waited calmly in his seat as he turned to her and offered a hand, a terse jaw, and a glare. "Hello, I don't believe we've properly met." She could practically hear his teeth grinding together. "You are?"

"Surprised," Rukia offered with a smile, "That you would be so late, Mr. Kurosaki." She saw his eyes turn into slits and could practically feel her skin being pierced with the daggers he was shooting out of them. She decided to twist the knife in his back even further. "I mean, you were in _such_ a hurry this morning."

"Yes well…" he trailed off and kept his hands stiffly at his side. Rukia simply couldn't help the self-satisfied smirk that had screwed itself onto her face. "We all have our places to be."

"Except you, apparently," Rukia shot back, "Because I believe this meeting began at eleven."

"Which I apologized for."

"Once."

"How many times is appropriate, _miss_?"

"I'd say about three."

"You must be drea—"

"Excuse me."

Rukia's head turned at the sound of Gin Ichimaru's slick voice. She blinked once and quickly realized that she had been acting like a three-year-old. She gave a swift glance to Ichigo Kurosaki—who had a livid look on his face—and fought the urge to slap herself.

That argument could have cost her the account! Her career could have been put on the line because of this insolent man and her childish attempt to get back at him. Well, it wasn't that he didn't deserve it, it was more or less that she had allowed her dislike for him to cloud her objectives.

_Never again_. She silently vowed. This man would not make her do anything like that before a superior ever again. Maybe if they were alone… but most certainly never before her boss.

_Oh hell,_ she grumbled, _he's not just my boss… he's my _new_ boss. Damn it._

"I apologize," Rukia said curtly, then added for Kurosaki's benefit, "Mr. Ichimaru. I do not know what came over me."

"I bet I do you conniving little—"

"Mr. Kurosaki," Ichimaru said quietly, "Please, a little restraint."

"Whatever." Kurosaki mumbled, sitting in a chair only three feet from her.

Rukia ruefully wondered if the man beside her acted like a pompous ass all the time. He seemed to be taking a great deal of liberties when it came to addressing his boss as well as ladies—if she could even call herself a lady—so formerly. Nevertheless, this move was crucial to her career, she would be delusional not to reach out and take it at the soonest possible time. Kurosaki was just a fringe annoyance.

"So," said man grunted, "What am I doing here Mr. Ichimaru?" He jerked a thumb in his direction. "And what's _she_ doing here, for that matter?"

"I presume you know Ms. Kuchiki?" Ichimaru grinned.

Rukia glanced over at Ichigo Kurosaki's face and saw his mask of irritation slip off just a bit and give way to the shock of surprise. She knew what was going through his head. _Yes,_ she thought smugly, _Kuchiki, that's my name you pretentious bastard. Chew on that for a while before you decide to call me 'kid' again._

"Kuchiki?" Kurosaki asked and Rukia told herself not to grin foolishly. "As in… Byakuya Kuchiki? The business mogul over in Tokyo? Doesn't he have dibs on the biggest defense contract ever formulated?" He gave a quick up-and-down glance to Rukia. "Isn't he over six feet tall as well?" He added nastily and Rukia immediately seethed at the veiled insult over her height.

"That's right." Ichimaru said smoothly, Rukia forced herself to look at him even though she would have rather turned completely away. "This is his sister, Ms. Rukia Kuchiki."

Kurosaki turned towards her and sneered, "Well I would say I'm pleased to meet you but considering the circumstances—" his eyes veered down to her blouse and his eyes narrowed just a bit. Normally, Rukia would either be furious or not care if a man looked so openly at her chest the way Kurosaki was doing now. Depending on her mood she would either be exceedingly offended—seeing as how those sexist pigs liked to look at her as though she were just another piece of meat. Or, if she were in a relatively good mood, she just wouldn't care—there wasn't much to look at down there anyway. This was the only rare occasion where she didn't feel anything except smugness. Kurosaki's angry expression completely gave away his irritation that she was wearing a clean and crisp shirt while he—she took a quick glance—was still donning a coffee stained vestment.

His eyes darkened and Rukia allowed a spiteful smirk to slide onto her lips. He practically snarled at her as he turned back to his boss. The man had observed the occurrence with interested eyes but had not said a word.

"Ready to listen, Kurosaki?" He asked and nodded begrudgingly.

"Good." He turned to Rukia and she tried not to wince, "Ms. Kuchiki, I assume you've been briefed on what this company intends to do with Gotei Corp.?"

"Yes, Mr. Ukitake informed me this morning."

"Good," he said and turned to Kurosaki. "Ichigo, Suigetsu Inc. and Gotei Corp. are merging to better our profit margins."

"Whatever." Ichigo answered, his tone suggested he was bored and Rukia wanted to slap him for not taking this more seriously. Honestly… _her_ reaction had been much more dramatic. "So tell me what _she's_ doing here." He jabbed his thumb at Rukia.

"Oh how well you two get along," Ichimaru grinned sickeningly. He steepled his fingers and pressed them against his snake-like lips. "This should be perfect."

Kurosaki's eyes narrowed and Rukia's eyes slid over to his face. She wanted to see his reaction when he heard what was going to happen.

"What should be perfect?" He demanded and Rukia fought another grin. Oh why did his pain make her smile?

Ichimaru slid forward on his sleek metallic desk and grinned just a bit. "We want this merger to go slowly—both companies that is—the higher ups have decided that our best corporate lawyer and their best corporate lawyer," he stopped for a moment and indicated to Rukia, "Should work together until the merger is complete."

Rukia grinned secretively at Ichigo's devilishly narrowed eyes, his slightly slacked jaw, and his inflamed nostrils. She could have snickered if she hadn't been so painfully aware of her own situation. _She_ had to work with this louse just as much as _he_ had to work with _her_. It wasn't going to be any pleasanter for her than it was for him.

_Stay level headed here Rukia,_ she reminded herself ruefully, _I need to handle this professionally… even if this dunce doesn't._

"I have to work with _her_?" He stressed, his teeth clenching painfully.

Ichimaru nodded and Rukia turned her head lightly to the side, analyzing the contents of his office. It was sparse—there was barely any furniture other than three chairs and a desk. There were no diplomas on his wall, like there were on her walls, and the only image on the otherwise spotless area was one of Mr. Ichimaru and an older man. Rukia studied the picture even more as she tried to figure out where she had seen the man before. He looked to be around his late to mid forties. He had soft brown hair and eyes rimmed in thick black glasses. He looked tall, well, built, and, well, he looked… _kind_. The way he was smiling made the threatening Gin Ichimaru beside him seem less foreboding. Rukia racked her brain to try and figure out where she had seen him before. Obviously he was important but she couldn't, for the life of her, remember his name.

"Are you sure it has to be me?" Kurosaki's gruff voice brought her back into the room.

She scowled and spoke for the first time since their quarrel. "Don't feel so jilted, I'm the one who has to come and share your office."

"And that's supposed to make me feel better?"

"Yes," she answered shortly. "This is a very desirable account. I intent to make it a top priority and do the best I can." She sent him a hostile glare. "I should think you should do the same."

"I didn't ask for this." He said through gritted teeth.

"Neither did I." Rukia pointed out.

"You two should get along splendidly." Ichimaru chuckled sickly, clearly enjoying their distaste for one another. He turned to Rukia and she felt her insides churning. "I assume Ukitake gave you the ramifications?"

"He has." Rukia said, masking her discomfort with an authoritative tone. "I'm to report here everyday and work on the files. I'll bring my laptop in order to work without making it cumbersome for Mr. Kurosaki and I'll give monthly reports to dictate our progress."

"Excellent." Ichimaru looked over at Kurosaki and saw him stewing silently in his seat.

Rukia stood and brushed her skirt off softly. "I'll go back to the office for today and make sure to tidy up my affairs before coming over here. I don't require much space." The last comment was meant for Kurosaki but she told them both anyway. She extended her hand and gave it to Mr. Ichimaru. His skin was cold and wet and Rukia was reminded, once again, of a snake when she pulled away.

She didn't even bother to shake Kurosaki's hand and simply gave him a smirk before she exited the office and proceeded back to her building.

-!!-

"Wow," Momo said as she speared a piece of lettuce from her salad and plopped it in her mouth. "So the jerk-wad from this morning is going to be working with you for a while?"

"Yep," Rukia muttered sourly, taking a bite out of her own leafy greens.

"That sucks."

"How original Momo," Rukia commented dryly and her friend shrugged in response.

"Well it does. I mean seriously, if the guy is rude enough to spill coffee on you and then not even bother to apologize then he's gotta be a first rate ass."

"He is." Rukia agreed, thinking about her meeting earlier with said jerk-wad and his creepy boss. "Rude, arrogant, and when his boss—who is another case entirely—told him about the merger all he said was 'sure' and just kept on insulting me." She darkly jabbed another piece of lettuce with her fork.

"Ass," Momo muttered and Rukia nodded her head emphatically. "And you have to work over there?"

"Yes."

"What will I do?"

Rukia looked up into Momo's face and was warmed by the amount of concern in her face. Granted, Momo was probably more worried about her job than anything else but that didn't make the sentiment any less touching.

"Don't worry," she answered breezily, "You'll be just fine. I'm going to keep in touch with you through email because there's not enough room for you to move to into the other building with me—although trust me, I'd like to, I got a glimpse of his office and he doesn't even have a secretary." She chewed thoughtfully, "Although when I went around to his office I saw the _floor_ secretary, she looked like a complete airhead."

"Really?" Momo said, a small amount of pride evident in her tone.

Rukia nodded gravely, "She saw me going into that Kurosaki's office—which, by the way, is one of the biggest messes I've ever seen in my life. I'm going to need to create an entirely new filing system—"

"Why aren't they just on his computer?"

"I'm assuming they're paper back-ups but I checked the date on one that was thrown on his desk," Rukia shuddered at the disorderliness, "It was from eight years ago."

"Ouch."

"Tell me about it."

"So… what did this secretary do?" Momo asked, sipping her drink.

Rukia wrinkled her nose, "Nothing. She just stared at me, it was creepy. She just gave me this look like I was purposely invading her space or something."

"Maybe she thinks you were there to see that Ichigo person for _different_ reasons." Momo suggested with a wiggle of her eyebrow.

"Ew." Rukia snorted in a very unladylike fashion. "Trust me, there's nothing _that_ particularly interesting about him. His personality's not the only thing that's ugly."

Momo sucked in a breath through her teeth and winced. "How bad?"

Rukia squinted her eyes at the memory and began to recite. "Tall, and even though I came up to his collarbone, he carries himself like he's taller. He has these nice brown eyes but they're set on such a god-awful face! His eyebrows are scrunched up all the time, which, of course, makes him look like he's constantly constipated—literally, they don't unfurl for anything."

"Even when he smiles?" Momo asked in horror.

"I wouldn't know," was Rukia's dry response, "I haven't actually seen him smile… only smirk."

"Are you kidding me?"

"No, I'm not. And on top of his head is this ungodly mop of hair. It looks like it belongs on a fifteen year old goth boy! It's all spiked and it's bright orange. Orange! No lie; it's the same color as the fruit."

"Good god," Momo giggled, "But then again, Toshiro has white hair and I think it looks _so_ good on him."

"Well…" Rukia muttered, "You're just weird that way."

They lapsed into silence and continued munching on their salads. They were both sitting at Rukia's desk—with protective covers underneath their meals—and they had been going over any files that she might need on her trip over to Suigetsu Inc. Rukia sighed again when she thought about it. She really wanted this account but she hated the thought of going into that building, being around people she hardly knew, and working with an ass she didn't like.

Still, if she was brutally honest with herself, she barely knew anyone here either. She worked far too much to really bother socializing with the people around the office. The only few people she really knew were Momo and a couple of her bosses. She wrinkled her nose, pulled a piece of limp chicken from her salad and biting into it slowly. Maybe she would make some acquaintances over at Suigetsu Inc.

Rukia could have laughed at that thought. She knew that if her stigma as a Gotei Corp. employee didn't immediately dissuade them, her last name would.

Her brother, Byakuya Kuchiki, was not just a mere mogul. He was _the _mogul. He was the CEO of a company that was privy to one of the biggest defense contracts in the nation. It raked in billions of dollars each quarter and only selected electronics from some of the top sellers—Gotei Corp. and Suigetsu Inc. were two of them—to formulate their products. All of that, plus his cold public image, made her that much more susceptible to the scarlet letter that normally branded her upon introductions.

Still, it wasn't as though her brother had _appointed_ her to her current position as top corporate attorney for Gotei Corp. He hadn't made some calls and given it to her. She had earned it all by herself. Her brother had done nothing but send money for Rukia's tuition and board. She did all of the work, went to all of the interviews, and worked without the aid of her brother to get where she was today.

Rukia sighed unhappily when she thought of her absent older brother. Hell, absent wasn't even the best word to describe it. He was gone. She hadn't even seen him since her sister's death eight years ago. The only contact they had over the years had been through birthday cards and the occasional sparse phone call, but other than that they didn't keep in touch. She and he were not the typical family now that her sister, his wife, was dead from a tremendously long battle with cancer.

"Rukia."

Rukia's head snapped up and she blinked twice. Momo was smiling expectantly at her and Rukia chastised herself for going off into lala land while her friend was attempting to talk to her.

"I was wondering something," Momo murmured. Rukia's interest was immediately piqued, normally, Momo wasn't ever this quiet. She leaned forward just a bit in case what her friend needed to tell her was deathly important.

"Toshiro's taking me to dinner next week." She muttered shyly.

Rukia's interested face fell flat and she sat back in her chair with a small grunt. "Oh come on, he takes you out to dinner all the time." Rukia went back to her grungy salad and picked out something lumpy that didn't look like it belonged.

"Not to the _Silken Rose_ he doesn't." Momo said quietly.

The lumpy thing in Rukia's hand dropped along with her jaw. Rouge spread over Momo's cheeks and she fitfully began to pick at a loose string on her skirt.

"Momo…" Rukia breathed, her face filled with shock and surprise, "Is—is Toshiro going to… _propose_?"

The blush spread down Momo's neck and she looked down to the side. "Well… you don't have to say it like that."

Rukia blinked, "Like what?"

"Like it could never happen."

_Is that what I sounded like?_ Rukia thought. _I hope not._ She leaned forward and awkwardly put her hand on top of Momo's. "I didn't mean it like that." She said softly, "You just surprised me is all." She gave Momo a wary look. "Did he _tell_ you he was taking you there?"

Wow, Rukia never knew that Momo's face could turn _that _color. Her face was now decorated an interesting shade of mottled purple.

"No…" she mumbled, "I… uh, I saw it in his… um… his date book."

"Momo!" Rukia chastised.

"It was an accident!" She cried, lurching forward in her chair and taking Rukia's hand into a death grip. "I really didn't mean to!"

Rukia gave her a small glare, "Still…" she sighed and rolled her eyes, willing to forgive her friend for what she knew was most likely _not_ the accident she claimed it to be. "But… do you really think…?"

Momo's face grew into a deep violet. "I—I don't know. I think—well, we've been going out for a while—"

"Six month," Rukia reminded her.

Momo shrugged, "That is a while, isn't it?"

Rukia let her fork pick at her salad. "But is it enough, do you think? I mean, six months isn't a very long time."

"I—I know," Momo stammered, "But I… I really love him." She ended the statement on a whisper, her eyes cast down, rosy rouge going all the way down to her neck.

_Are you sure?_ Was the one question that was ringing inside of Rukia's head. She couldn't help thinking like that it. She had her own issues with love and relationships to deal with. She didn't want to ruin Momo's hope for her future life.

But honestly, when Momo first got together with Toshiro she had been skeptical—Momo had been through so many boyfriends that it barely seemed possible that this one would actually stick. But in the end he stuck with her friend and she stuck with him. Momo's 'happy times' were increased tremendously when she was with him and Rukia could not help but support her friend as she made her rocky way through love. Hell, she could still remember the first time Momo and Toshiro had had sex.

Rukia frowned momentarily and told herself that such a memory was _not_, in fact, creepy for a best friend to have.

Momo had called her excitedly after Toshiro fell asleep—it was about twelve at night but Rukia was up anyway—and had practically cried on the phone at how great it had been and about how deeply she was in love with him. Rukia could only listen, smile, and try not to gag as Momo gave her a play-by-play of her recent fornication session.

That was another thing that made Momo such an… _interesting_ friend. She had absolutely no reservations about discussing her sex life with Rukia. Hell, the woman even _enjoyed_ telling her everything that she had done—with any of her boyfriends—any time she wanted to. In the beginning of their friendship Rukia had been disconcerted by her overt honesty but had eventually gotten used to it.

Still… marriage? Was Momo ready for something like that? Rukia had known her for almost eight years and she still wasn't sure if the young woman could handle it. She loved Toshiro, that much was painfully obvious, but was she ready to share a bathroom all the time, be in the same bed night after night, put up with all of his irritating quirks day in and day out? Could she do that?

"Momo…" Rukia murmured. She looked down at her plate and tried to modify what she was about to say so as not to hurt Momo's delicate feelings. She didn't want her own cynical views on the matter of marriage to ruin Momo's happy expectations. She pushed a limp piece of lettuce around with her fork and sighed. Her eyes looked up into Momo's reddened face and she smiled softly. "Just make sure," she began quietly, "That you're ready… you know, for marriage." She tried not to make the word sound like a curse. "If he does propose, that is. Take the afternoon to think about it."

Rukia drew in a deep breath and continued, "Do you _know_ that you want to be with him for the rest of your life?"

Momo only nodded. "I… I love him. I know that. I've been thinking about it for a while and… I think that if I were to be with him for the rest of my life… I would be happy. I really do. Only now it seems way more plausible… since I've seen the date in his planner."

Rukia nodded and the two continued eating. Momo was still red-faced but now she had a dreamy look in her eyes that spoke to what was going on in her mind: wedding dresses, cakes, and bridesmaids.

Rukia smiled softly and nodded at her friend. "I know you'll think this through." She paused for a minute and continued, "And if it doesn't work out then you'll just be helping the statistics that say fifty percent of marriages end in divorce."

Momo's head shot up to her friend. Rukia was snickering slightly at the horrified expression on her face but that melted away as soon as Momo realized she was only joking.

"You!" She cried, laughing lightly and breaking the awkward silence in the room. "Knock on wood Rukia Kuchiki! Quick! Knock on some wood, damn it!"

Rukia laughed and leaned back in her chair. She indicated to her desk and to the rest of her office, all of it was either sleek metal or decorative plastic. "Sorry Momo," she chuckled.

Momo ended up hunting in Rukia's office for five minutes until she found a wooden picture frame holding a diploma from their university.

They passed the rest of their lunch hour running over situations where Toshiro—hypothetically, of course, as maintained by Rukia—proposed to Momo. Momo swore to Rukia that she would start hyperventilating if he did and for once, Rukia didn't doubt the woman. They went over what dress she should wear to the dinner—Rukia insisted on the black one with the high neck and the flowing skirt but Momo said she would wear the shortened, red, spaghetti strap dress—and what she should order—they both agreed on something that wasn't messy, like steak and some green beans.

They continued to battle throughout the day as they packed up Rukia's things and organized her files. Hair up hair down, legs crossed or uncrossed, heavy jewelry or not, surprised gasp or silent awe… things like that occupied their conversations until it was five in the evening and Momo had to leave. Rukia told her secretary that she would finish cleaning up.

She didn't leave the office until it was nearly seven in the evening. Rukia rode the metro back to her apartment and sighed softly when she finally slipped out of her high heels. She pulled her hair out of its restrictive pony-tail and shucked off her blasé jacket. Her bare feet slid against the carpet and she slowly moved to the kitchen. She pulled out something resembling a frozen dinner from her freezer and popped it in the microwave. She went into the bedroom and changed out of her pencil skirt, tight shirt, and her brazier. She pulled a large, loose, gray tee over her head and simply walked around her apartment in her underwear and shirt.

She didn't know what it was about today—maybe the early morning coffee incident, the news about Gotei Corp. and Suigetsu Inc. merging, meeting with that Kurosaki ass—twice, or hearing about Momo's supposed pending engagement, but she was far more tired than usual.

Rukia waited until her dinner was finished warming up and poked at the gelatin mess with distaste. She thought of watching television but instead pulled out some files and began reading until she was too tired to stay awake.

Rukia fell asleep with thoughts of orange disturbing her otherwise peaceful slumber.

-!!-

Ichigo spent nearly the entire day stewing over his new… _situation_.

He couldn't get that snarky woman's face and attitude out of his mind. The way she challenged him, looked down on him, and outright insulted him seemed to replay in his head until he wanted to take a jackhammer to his brain. It wasn't even all of _that_ either, it was the fact that she had done it all right in front of his own damn boss.

And now he was doing house work. Or, office work, so to speak. But it ran along the same principals. He had to make the office _ready_ for her most precious _arrival_.

Ichigo cursed as another paper cut besieged his rough fingers. He had to move all of his stuff just so she could have her own little corner of the room. Hell, it wasn't even a corner, he was practically slicing is office in half in order to give her enough room. It wasn't that he actually _wanted_ to give her more room, it's just that after this morning's interlude he wouldn't want her anywhere within ten feet of him.

He grunted as he moved his entire computer off of his desk. He set it on the ground not-so-gently and prayed that none of his files were injured. Ichigo grunted tiredly as he positioned himself against his large wooden block of a desk. He tensed his muscles and gave it a hard shove. The thing didn't budge.

"What are you?" Ichigo snarled, "Lashed to the floor?"

He kept pushing it again and again. Each time it moved only an inch but after nearly twenty minutes Ichigo had managed to push the damn thing completely to the other side of the room.

He stood back, pulled off his jacket, and loosened his tie. The rearranging was taking longer than he thought it would. It was nearly five in the afternoon and he wanted to go home. Still, his office did look much bigger without this huge desk in the center.

"Now I just have to find one for her." He snapped angrily.

"Here so late, Mr. Kurosaki?"

Ichigo swiveled his head and immediately felt a disgusted, irritating sensation of annoyance slip into the pit of his stomach.

He forced a miniscule smile onto his lips and turned back to fixing the stuff on his desk. "Yeah, Inoue, I'm just messing with a couple things." He plugged his computer into the socket and stood up to his full height, brushing his hands off lightly.

There was a slight pause and Ichigo continued to fiddle around with the jack. If there was one thing he did not want to be doing right now it was talking with Orihime Inoue. She was the secretary for the entire floor and managed meetings, fund raisers, and basically kept everyone in this part of the building in check. But to Ichigo Kurosaki she was… something else.

It had all started at last years Christmas party when he had had a _little _too much to drink and she had been standing next to him wearing a rather revealing dress. After a couple more hours and a few more jello shots—which weren't supposed to be there anyway—they had ended up snogging rather enthusiastically back in his office. They hadn't gone all the way—even though Inoue was more than willing and Ichigo had already pulled down the top of her dress—but they had stopped when another rowdily drunk pair had stumbled into his office, clearly intent on using the space for their own private purposes as well.

Since that night, which was almost four months ago, Inoue had been… creepy. She watched him whenever he came out of his office, tried to get him to go on dates with her, brought him things to eat, personally delivered messages to him, and even once walked to the office just so she could catch a ride home with him. Once Ichigo had finally caught on to what she was doing—it wasn't like he was blind or anything, but he had happened to be exceedingly busy with a new acquisition and didn't have much time to pay attention to love-sick secretaries—he had let her down. She had taken the news in stony silence and simply went back to work when they had finished talking.

Hell, it wasn't like he _enjoyed_ letting her down or anything, and frankly, he didn't see what reason he had to do it. After all, Inoue was attractive, had all the proper assets, and had at least half of a brain in her head, he just never really felt the urge to be with her. Biblically or otherwise.

He hadn't really _meant_ to even kiss her. Lame excuse, of course, but it was the truth. When Ichigo drank too much things like that tended to happen whether he wanted them to or not. That night it had been the jello-shots talking, not him.

Even four months after the fateful Christmas party and two months after he let her know that he wasn't terribly interested, Inoue had still not given up on him. He wasn't all that bothered by it now, seeing as how she wasn't overtly persistent anymore, but she still managed to do little things to try and get his attention: wearing lower cut shirts and short skirts, bringing him coffee, and talking to him after hours. It was simple stuff like that that made her more or less aggravating. She still hadn't crossed the bridge to a restraining order yet.

It didn't help that Inoue was the apple of Uryu's eye either. He had been sweet on her since he had first come to Suigetsu Inc. and hadn't spoken to Ichigo for three months after he found out where, exactly, Orihime Inoue went off to during the middle of the Christmas party. Yet even now, the poor bastard had his heart set on her and was doing anything he could to earn her favor, even though she was still painfully enamored with Ichigo.

From his perspective, this all seemed to be too much drama. Ichigo often thought that if a few crazy relatives, arsenic, and illegitimate children were added into the mix they'd have a full on soap opera milling around this place.

_Ah, but now we add in the obstinate female coworker who should have been born with testicles,_ Ichigo thought dryly as he continued messing with the wires.

"Is someone else coming here?" The woman behind him asked in a cheerfully innocent tone.

_Damn, Inoue's still there._

"Um, yeah," Ichigo said as he turned and leaned against his desk. He folded his arms over his chest and looked at the pretty woman standing before him.

Long, auburn hair flowed down to the middle of her back. She had large, grey eyes and a full mouth with twin, pouty, pink lips. She also had some of the largest breasts Ichigo had ever seen, at least, within the Suigetsu Inc. walls, that is. He still reminded himself to keep his gaze glued to her pert little nose so as not to give her any more… _ideas_.

He swallowed disdainfully and continued. "I've got to work with this she-devil from Gotei Corp. for a while and I'm trying to make some room for her." He didn't add that he had been forced into this by his boss.

"Oh," she murmured and raised a finger to tap at her chin, the look on her face told him that she was definitely concentrating hard. "That tiny woman with the black hair?"

Ichigo's brow furrowed even more and he nodded slowly, "Yeah, that's her. Her name is Rukia Kuchiki and she's—" _A nasty little bitch._ "Interesting." He finished lamely.

"I saw her in your office earlier today," Inoue informed him happily, her giddy eyes piercing through his body. "I didn't know who she was but it looked like she was going through your files a bit." Her animated gaze immediately became dreadfully serious and her full bottom lip turned into a pout.

The cloud over Ichigo's head grew darker and he scowled when he thought of that woman pilfering her tiny little hands through his things.

"She was probably trying to figure out what she could do to mess with the filing system." He spat bitterly, but if he were to tell the truth, he would have to say that he didn't actually have a filing system. His was more along the lines of the game fifty two pickup. He just tossed things around hoping to find them later. He sighed and then nodded to Inoue, "Thanks for the update, I'll wring her neck for it tomorrow."

Inoue cocked her head to the side and smiled, "You don't like her that much?" She asked in a bright and bubbly voice.

Ichigo truly wanted to end this conversation but he knew that as long as he was actually in the office she would be here, talking with him. He took a minute to consider actually calling Uryu down and having him discuss sewing patterns with the woman but if his suspicions were correct then the damned girly-man had already left.

So he just continued talking, "No, I don't. She's an elitist bitch." He snarled as he quickly pulled together a few files and stuffed them into odd places on his desk. To hell with it, he'd find a desk for her tomorrow; he didn't want to stay here any longer.

He roughly pulled on his jacket and fastened his tie a bit tighter around the neck. He packed up the stuff he would need for tonight—basically nothing—and grasped the key to his Benz and his office. He gave Inoue a terse glare and she stepped back obediently. He locked his office, said goodnight, and made his way to the elevator in long, muscular strides. He felt Inoue's eyes on him the entire time and fought not to let an irritated groan slip from his mouth.

He rode the elevator in silence, thinking about what the next day would bring.

**(A/N: ****Please remember to REVIEW, REVIEW, REVIEW!!**

**Remember, if you don't like my story then it wasn't written for you.)**


	6. Chapter 5

**Disclaimer: I do not own Bleach or any Bleach affiliates.**

_**Odalisque**_

**Chapter 5**

The minute Rukia Kuchiki walked into the front lobby of Suigetsu Inc. with a box of office supplies filled to the brim and a laptop computer slung over her shoulder she immediately felt like she was being watched. It wasn't like the normal 'being watched' feeling she usually got from the security cameras, men, and passers-by. This was far a whole lot stranger. She felt like she was being… stalked. Well, maybe _stalked _was a bit of an exaggeration, but it was still apt enough for the situation at hand.

She kept her head held high as she made her way stiffly to the elevator and actually managed to push the button for the floor of her new office using her heeled foot. As the doors closed she fought the urge to do a small victory dance and instead smirked at such an accomplishment this early in the morning. And it was early, she noted with a hint of smugness. The clock only read seven twenty. She would have been here at seven had she not missed the first metro train. Still, she was at her new office at a very respectable time. She should at least be given credit for that.

_Excuse me_, she thought disgustedly, _my new _shared_ office._

Oh yes, she had been briefed on the entire situation, curtsey of inside information from Momo as well as the standard shit Ukitake usually gave her. Now she was one half of a whole, figuratively speaking. She was to work with Ichigo Kurosaki on a project she desperately wanted to do well on. Yet from the way he acted yesterday in Ichimaru's office she knew that he wasn't going to take this as seriously as she.

Rukia scowled and listened to the horrid elevator music as she ascended. Last night she had done some research on Ichigo Kurosaki. He had a surprising amount of web pages devoted to him. She must have seen at least three hundred hits on Google alone. Most of them just referenced the man but some were completely dedicated to him. She found one blog from a twenty-something year old supermodel that had given a detailed explanation of exactly what she and Kurosaki had done one night in her apartment. Rukia had glazed over most of it—for propriety's sake—but from what she could tell Ichigo Kurosaki was as fearless in the boardroom as he was in the bedroom.

She continued on with her research and found articles—from reputable newspapers— discussing his ruthless tactics to acquire new companies for Suigetsu Inc. She remembered two months ago when she had read one particular article where Suigetsu Inc. had bullied another company—a larger company at that—into submission. As it turned out, Ichigo Kurosaki had been the mastermind behind that particular takeover.

The press, it seemed, couldn't make up its mind about Ichigo Kurosaki. One month they loved him and the next they were vilifying him on the front page of the business section. She had also noticed that some reporters were openly hostile while others begrudgingly admired his resourcefulness while shunning his tactics.

To Rukia it was all valuable information that she could use whether for him or against him. That particular aspect of their relationship would remain solely in his hands. Although, she wasn't about to tell him that she had researched him; that little fact would remain anonymous. She also told herself not to judge the man for what seemed to be his very numerous sexual escapades.

And they were _numerous_. The twenty-something supermodel hadn't been the only person to be reamed by Ichigo Kurosaki's… um, if the reports were true… incredibly large _asset_. At least two hundred of the three hundred hits she had gotten were about him and his former sexual partners. Needless to say it was _not_ something that Rukia was that keen on learning about… in any capacity.

The elevator dinged and Rukia emerged slowly, careful not to spill the copious amounts of pens, pencils, erasers, paperclips, tape, and thousands of other things she knew she would need if she was going to survive. She continued until she was in front of the office she had inspected yesterday. She placed her boxes down on the ground and dug into her pocket for the key Ukitake had given her yesterday. She dug the silver thing into the lock and twisted.

The inside of the office was dark and slightly musty and Rukia immediately noted that she would need to open some sort of window if she was ever going to work here. She muttered softly as she moved to the side and flipped on the light switch.

Her inquisitive gaze was met with horror.

"Oh… my… god…" Rukia breathed.

It was very hard—no, it was _extremely_ hard, for a woman who possessed a certain amount of OCD—Rukia, case in point—to look upon this disaster of a room without fighting the urge to vomit.

Rukia's dazed feet took two steps inside and she whimpered at the mass and heaps of papers littering the floor. She stepped over files with papers that had slipped away from their herds. She crunched over a pencil and felt like screaming bloody murder when she noticed a moldy cup of coffee sitting forlornly on a shelf.

She had thought the office wasn't that bad yesterday! Rukia placed a cooled hand to her mouth and bit her lip furiously. When she was in here the day before it had been only a little messy, now it looked as though a tsunami had rushed through the place, destroying everything in its path.

Rukia slowly and angrily—yes, she was angry now—meandered her way to a safe corner of the room and set her box down on a small, relatively clean—although dusty—shelf. She turned from where she was and surveyed the room once again. A small tick was beginning to form in her upper eye as she thought of what she was going to do to the man who would _dare_ pull this kind of stunt.

He had done it on purpose.

"That stupid ass!" Rukia hissed as she fought the urge to kick something. It wouldn't be hard, though, for her foot to reach some stray document lying around on the floor.

The damn bastard had trashed her—their—office on purpose! Her mind whirled as she thought back to when she had met him with Ichimaru. She remembered how he had looked straight at her chest and seen that she had a new shirt on. Rukia's eye twitched when she thought of what it meant.

Ichigo Kurosaki wasn't a stupid man. He was, she had to admit, very smart. He must have seen how she liked to be tidy, as per the new shirt. He would have seen. He would have known. So when she made him look like a fool in front of his boss this was what he did. He completely trashed this office _knowing_ that she would clean it up.

"Fucking pig." She growled as she slipped her jacket from her shoulders. She unbuttoned the tiny plastic circles from her wrist cuffs and rolled up her sleeves. She briefly contemplated how she was going to do this while wearing a pencil skirt but that wasn't going to stop her. Rukia slipped out of her shoes and looked at the clock. Seven thirty. She had about an hour before people actually started showing up in earnest.

Rukia's eyes narrowed and she rolled out of her pantyhose. She was going to make Kurosaki pay for this. He was going to pay for messing with her. She was going to subject him to the filing system from hell.

But first and foremost, she needed a cup of coffee.

By eight thirty Rukia had both a light sheen on sweat on the back of her neck and the return of the whole 'being watched' feeling. She stood slowly and leaned backwards, cracking her back just a bit as she straightened her clothing.

-!!-

She was almost finished.

Well, maybe _almost_ wasn't the operative word to be used in this situation. She was at _least_ halfway finished… kind of.

She looked to her right and nodded in success. All of the files were put into their respective folders and cabinets; not to mention they were also organized by year, by name, and then by how much money was _gained_ during the transaction between the companies. Rukia grinned evilly at her filing plans. Yes… Ichigo Kurosaki would soon be felled by her filing system from hell. Maybe she should add in a bit of the Dewey Decimal system, just for good measure. After that she continued to rearrange the furniture, the files, and most importantly, the desk. She needed to make it so that two people could sit there comfortably.

Rukia's eyes darkened at the thought. Yes, she would have to share a desk with Kurosaki, but at least she had given them both room. She had noticed when she first came in here that there was only one desk _and_ that it had been pushed so far into the corner it was nearly pressed against the large window.

Rukia cocked her head to the side and sighed. At least the view was good. In fact, the window was probably the only thing in this damn office she liked. It was huge. When she had been told that Ichigo Kurosaki had a corner office she had thought nothing of it. But now she understood that when Ukitake said corner office he had meant _corner office._ Literally, two of the walls that comprised it were made completely of glass. They were large and well maintained. The only bad thing was that there wasn't a window she could actually _open_. Still, there was an awful lot of natural light she could work by. Not to mention the view of the courtyard down below and the city in the distance was wonderful.

She sighed softly and wiggled her bare feet into the carpet. She knew it was completely uncouth of her to actually not wear shoes in an office, but when faced with such heavy-duty cleaning and organizing as she had been faced with she knew that it had to be done. It was a good thing that the office was shut off to the hallway. She wouldn't have wanted an all-around office made of glass.

"Too many problems with rocks." She muttered, grinning lightly at her own joke.

She glanced over at the clock and grimaced when she saw the time. If anything, Kurosaki should be here by nine. She pulled her lips into a tight frown and mentally made a note to find a way to get him into the office earlier. If she was here at seven she wanted him to be here at seven as well. That way the project would take less time to do and she could be out of here much faster.

She moved over to a small table sitting, unused, in the corner of the room. She had moved the thing near and outlet and was currently brewing her early morning coffee. _I'll have to be careful when I drink coffee around Kurosaki_, she thought disdainfully as she filled her cup and took another sip.

She turned around and gently appraised what she had done.

It was clean in a roundabout way. Enough to keep her OCD censors from completely freaking out. She'd have to leave a note to the cleaning crew to vacuum the floor tonight but other than that everything was in a relatively safe place. The filing cabinets were organized and the desk was partitioned well. Her laptop was placed opposite his on the mahogany top, giving them enough room for personal space but also ensuring that she could look over to his desktop to easily access information.

The only thing she didn't like too much was the fact that they were both on the same side of the desk. She would have to deal with his Satanic presence always being on her right while they worked together.

Still, working with what they had she'd have to say that she did a rather good job. Now if she could just put her pantyhose and shoes back on before anyone noticed that would be—

"Good morning."

Rukia twirled around at the sound of the cheerfully strained voice and blinked when her gaze fell onto that of a young woman. She had long, reddish-orange hair, swirling gray eyes, a slim build, and some of the largest breasts Rukia had ever seen in her life. Rukia's eyes also narrowed a bit when she noticed the woman's stance. She was trying to look nonchalant while leaning casually against the doorframe, but Rukia could see the stiffness in her shoulders, the tenseness in her jaw, and the hard look that covered her gray eyes like a film.

"Good morning," Rukia returned warily. She took a few steps forward and held out her hand. The young woman stared at it for a moment before tentatively reaching out and grasping it in her own. "I'm Rukia Kuchiki, I'll be working here for a while." She released their hands but not before noticing the weakness of the greeting.

_Best to get the introductions out of the way first,_ Rukia thought ruefully. She didn't like the way this woman was staring at her… like it was Rukia who was single-handedly ruining her life.

"Yes, I figured." The woman said, her voice was high pitched and cheerful but the warm sentiments did not reach her eyes, which were still cautiously evaluating Rukia, as if she were afraid she might have rabies. "Mr. Kurosaki told me you were coming."

"He did?" Rukia said amiably, attempting to soften the sound of her voice in order to make her seem friendlier. She didn't want to start making enemies right off the bat. She needed allies here if she was to go up against Kurosaki.

"Yes," the woman continued, Rukia made a mental note that she had not given her name yet. "You're from Gotei Corp. aren't you?"

Rukia's spine stiffened. Ukitake had told her that this merger was to be kept a secret. She had assumed that Ichimaru had told Kurosaki the same thing. Rukia seethed on the inside and cursed; if Kurosaki had blabbed to the secretary with the large cans then Rukia was going to use his body as a punching bag.

"Yes, I am." Rukia replied, her voice growing colder by the minute. She could already envision how she was going to punish Kurosaki for opening his big mouth.

The woman nodded softly and raised an eyebrow. "Well, then welcome. Although I should tell you, Mr. Kurosaki doesn't very much like people going through his things." Her eyes roamed the newly organized room and then landed back on Rukia, whose lips tightened fractionally.

"Yes well," she trailed, "I don't much like working inside of a hurricane disaster zone either so I had to do something," she laughed lightly, hoping to lighten the mood just a smidge. She could already tell that her attempts to endear this young woman into her favor were going to be a disaster. It seemed as though she was already a persona non grata in this place.

She giggled appreciatively but once again the giggle did not sound true. "Of course, of course… Mr. Kurosaki _is_ a bit untidy."

_Untidy is the understatement you moron._ Rukia thought exasperatedly. She didn't like to deal with people like her… whoever the hell she was.

"I'm sorry," Rukia intoned lightly, "I don't believe I know your name."

_Ha,_ Rukia thought victoriously, _just try and get out of this one_.

The young woman's eyes widened and she let out a ringing laugh, her breasts bobbed up and down with the movements of her chest as she slowly brought it down into a giggle. "Oh, of course, sorry about that." She said jovially, "I'm Orihime Inoue; I'm the secretary for this floor." Once again, her eyes did not convey any type of warming emotions.

"Well, I'm very pleased to meet you." Rukia said cordially.

_Not_.

"Likewise," Inoue replied, "I'm always at the end of the hall if you need me."

"Certainly." Rukia really wished this conversation was over. She only had fifteen minutes before Kurosaki was supposed to show up and she desperately needed to get back into her pantyhose and heels. She didn't want to deal with any ridiculous comments that were sure to come from him if he saw her looking so unprofessional. It was a good thing that Orihime Inoue couldn't see past her own breasts, if she could she would have noticed that Rukia's legs were bare and that her toes were visible. She fought the urge to roll her eyes at the woman's insistence to continue this conversation. She needed to make up an entire lecture about the necessity of clean office space so she could give it to Kurosaki when he arrived.

"I'll see you around." Inoue finally said, smiling through her teeth so hard that Rukia was almost sure one of them would crack. She turned on her heel and stepped lightly out of the room.

As soon as she left Rukia shut the door and hurriedly rushed over to her side of the desk. She had stuffed her shoes and her hose in the top desk drawer so no unexpected visitors would see them just lying around. She dug them out and slowly slid them on. She had to pull up her skirt just a bit in order to get them on and mentally cursed herself for wearing them. She had never liked wearing pantyhose, even when she was little, but in the world where she grew up, they were expected, if not demanded.

She slid her shoes into place and plopped down into Kurosaki's chair. She had to wait another day before she could properly hire men to bring her own chair over to Suigetsu Inc. so for today she would just have to deal with Kurosaki's.

She scooted the chair over to her own workspace and began to run through some files that would aid in the preliminary stages of the merger. They were mostly formalities but both companies needed to undergo them in order to really get down to business.

Rukia did not look up from her computer until it was half past nine. She blinked at the time shown on her screen and immediately felt a strange mix of confusion and anger spinning in the pit of her stomach.

Warily, she stood up from her—Kurosaki's—chair and stomped out into the hall. The floor was now buzzing with people. Rukia did not recognize any of them—save Orihime Inoue—and she most certainly did not recognize that shock of orange hair that accompanied Ichigo Kurosaki's arrival.

"Damn," she muttered quietly. A few people looked over to her as she poked her head out of the door and began muttering lightly. She scowled at them instantly and most of them turned away. She reveled momentarily in the power to make people turn away. Oh, it was good.

Still, she reminded herself, she wanted allies in this place. Hell, she _needed_ them if she was to stand up against that arrogant ass Kurosaki. She needed to play her hand carefully so as not to make too many enemies here.

So, instead of frostily ignoring Orihime Inoue for as long as she could—like she had planned to do—Rukia straightened her spine, squared her shoulders, and marched at a clipped pace over to her large desk. People stared at her as she passed but she paid them no mind, other than nodding to a few who offered morning greetings. She came to the front desk only to discover that Inoue's eyes had been following her the entire time she had been walking over.

_Okay, creepy._ Rukia sighed mentally. But she persevered anyway.

"Ms. Inoue," Rukia began, having noticed earlier that the busty young woman did not possess a wedding ring or engagement band, "I would like to know when I should expect Kurosaki to arrive." Rukia made sure to phrase the statement as a demand and not a question.

The woman's eyes blinked and the hard filminess returned after a moment. "Oh I'm not sure, Ms. Kuchiki," she said, Rukia noted a slight increase into her voice while she said her name. "Sometimes he doesn't come in until… oh, ten o'clock."

Rukia felt the urge to snap a pencil in two… or someone's neck. Her face did not betray her frustration. "Very well," she said crisply, "Thank you Ms. Inoue."

"Orihime, please." She said sweetly, her voice tilting up onto a giggle at the end.

"Alright then… Orihime." Rukia turned to leave after nodding once again. In all honesty she did not want to address Orihime Inoue by her first name. It wasn't just because of her lack of social skills or because of her desire not to get too attached to the people at Suigetsu Inc. or even because she was determined to focus solely on her work. Calling someone by their first name was just too personal for her. She hadn't been brought up to be so familiar with another person. She even addressed family members with a proper modicum of respect. Not to mention, judging from the less-than-warm greeting she had received this morning she doubted that having the ability to address Inoue by her first name would lead to any sort of friendship. She just wanted to remain cordial with the woman who, for some reason, didn't like her very much.

_Not that I can blame her though. _Rukia snorted at that thought. Not many people liked her because she was an uptight ass… and nothing was going to change _that_ anytime soon. Hell, she should be grateful that people here still didn't know her temperaments. Once they did, well… she could say goodbye to cordial.

Either way—be it by her own personality or by the workings of some strange higher power—she knew that Orihime Inoue was not going to be one of her allies here at Suigetsu Inc.

Ten o'clock rolled around and at that time Rukia began to get truly agitated. She swore that if Kurosaki didn't show up within the next fifteen minutes she would find someone who knew his cell phone number and call it.

Then keep the number so she could begin harassing him on a daily basis. Maybe then he'd get a restraining order and she wouldn't be forced to work with him anymore.

She had already gone through all of the activities she had prepared in case Kurosaki was a _little_ late—she had some extraneous files to finish up, emails to send, and minions to harass—but now, she was knee deep in her fifth game of free cell and she had even polished off two more cups of coffee.

_Someone around here must have connections with Kurosaki_, she thought angrily. _He must have a friend or a girlfriend or something!_

Rukia growled openly and felt the driving urge to kick something. That would not, however, be a wise decision considering the shoes she was currently wearing. She sent a withering glare over to the clock and heartily wished for something sharp. When Kurosaki got here she was going to stab him. Maybe a ballpoint pen. They were relatively sharp and she could probably get a pretty good hit on him if she tried. A knife would be better, of course, or maybe a blunt ax…

Honestly, how was she supposed to write a report about how the merger was going if there was no work actually being done? How was she supposed to do any work without Kurosaki here? And how in the hell was she supposed to keep her temper in check when he was around?

It was just a circle of futility she acknowledged angrily. She couldn't work without him and she would bet her entire salary that she wouldn't be able to work with him.

"Damn that Kurosaki." She muttered loathingly. Her nose seemed to be twisting itself into a permanent snarl without any signals coming from her brain. She eyed the clock once again and felt a tick start near her temple. He had ten minutes left before she brought in the cavalry.

Rukia's eyes moved woefully to her empty cup of coffee. She knew that if she even dared to drink another one her body would start acting like an activated jackhammer pounding into the side of some street. Still, she had a feeling that once Kurosaki got here she would need all the energy in her body—caffeine stimulated or otherwise—in order to yell at him properly.

She decided to chuck her inhibitions and go for one more cup of coffee. It took her a moment to realize the idiocy of that thought but she discarded it with a shrug. Coffee filled her mug—which was colorfully decorated with a Chappy the Rabbit smiley face—and she noticed that hers would be the last cup of the pot.

_See?_ She told herself. _You tried to be nice and make enough for the two of you… but did he even show up to drink some? No!_

She took a ruthless swill and tried to ignore the intense burning sensation and the gritty grinds scalding her throat. The uncomfortable feelings, however, were only intensified, by the sudden appearance of the current bane of Rukia's existence.

"Morning Sunshine."

The glare that Rukia Kuchiki gave to Ichigo Kurosaki could have melted the polar ice caps. It wasn't cold, like her normal glares, but hot. Her eyes were smoldering and sparking with more anger than she had known in such a long time. Her teeth clenched hard and she felt a hard twisting in her gut. She was so angry that she could barely speak.

He stood there, examining her softly as she stayed poised near the counter. She was clutching her Chappy the Rabbit coffee cup with a grip that could have broken steel—but she would never harm anything Chappy related so the cup was safe—and she was staring poison-tipped-daggers at the man who had single-handedly managed to ruin her life in less than three short days. Yet even under her demonic scrutiny he seemed to be content with smiling smugly in her direction.

He didn't care that he was ruining her chances to get Ukitake's job. He didn't care that they had lost productive working time. He didn't care that he was an hour late! Two hours if you counted work starting at eight! He was late and smug and evil and horrible and—and—

Rukia calmly but briskly slithered past Ichigo Kurosaki and shut the door to their office. Her hands were steady, her feet were sure, and her expression was set in stone. A few people peeked at her as she slowly twisted the knob, threw the door into its frame, and carefully locked it shut. She was quite sure that a couple people outside must have heard the definite click. She briefly wondered what was going through their heads right now. Probably something dirty, if she had to venture a guess. But no… the only _dirty_ aspect that would come out of this _conversation_ would be the janitors eventually wiping Kurosaki's blood off of the floor.

Then she turned to him, took a deep, cleansing breath, and narrowed her eyes.

"_Sunshine?_" She murmured dangerously. She took three quick steps towards him and clenched her jaw. "_Sunshine!_ Who do you think you _are_?" She shrieked. At this point she was so angry she didn't care if people outside of the office heard her.

"Ichigo Kurosaki." He answered smartly, his lips curling at the corners. He crossed his arms over his chest and raised an eyebrow at her.

Rukia's hand shot out and she punched him hard on the shoulder. He jerked back a bit and she felt a thin sensation of satisfaction course through her when she saw that he momentarily stumbled. Yet her anger was far from being abated. Right now, she was so furious with him it was taking all of her caffeine-propelled energy just to keep a cool head.

"You're such an ass!" She hissed angrily, taking one step forward. He didn't move an inch, he just stood there, smiling arrogantly and rubbing/flexing his shoulder.

Rukia dared to take another step and finally planted herself only a foot away from him. She didn't like that she was shorter than him by about a foot but right now her rage made her feel seven feet tall.

Gritting her teeth, she clenched her jaw and hissed, "I've came here at seven in the morning to find this office a complete mess, which, I'm sure, was _your_ doing! I had to spend the entire morning fixing up this dump and then you don't even bother to come in until now! You're _late_. Work is supposed to start at nine, the good employee is supposed to come in at _eight_ and _I_ expect you to come in _earlier_!"

There was a slight pause. The room seemed to be pulsating with antagonism and irritation.

"Excuse me?" Kurosaki said softly… dangerously.

She raised her hand as if to punch him again but fought the urge to do so. Her fingers curled shut and she forced them down a bit. Kurosaki's face was relaxed but his body was tense. She had the sneaking suspicion that if she tried to hit him again she would feel her fingers caught inside of his iron grip… and that was something she just didn't want to happen.

She narrowed her eyes instead and dragged her hand back down to her side. "If I need to work with you—for however long this thing takes—then I want you to come into the office early and stay late. I need to have this done quickly and proficiently so I can come into work everyday without seeing your revolting face _every morning!_"

Rukia couldn't believe how angry she was becoming. In the entirety of her career as a lawyer, throughout her schooling both in high school and at the university level, hell, even as a young child, she had always been taught to keep her cool. _Always_. No matter what the situation, her standing as a member of the Kuchiki Family and that as a respectable young woman were always resting on the idea that she would never lose control of her emotional state.

With this sudden realization she twisted her body away, raised her hands to her face, and pressed the heels of her palms to her eyes. She didn't want everyone here thinking she was nuts. Well, she didn't actually care what they thought; she just didn't want word to get around to the bosses that she had yelled at her ass of a coworker on their first day of working together.

She walked a few steps away and let out a long, aggravated, and thoroughly needed sigh. She needed to cool down. She needed a therapist. She needed a tranquilizer.

_I promised Ukitake that I'd make this work. _She reminded herself moodily. _That's what I'm going to do… make it work._

What she needed was some type of technique to help her relax whenever he made her angry… Like that breathing shit they told pregnant women to do. Except, Rukia wasn't pregnant… nor did she plan on—

_Oh just stop thinking like that!_ Rukia hissed. _Damn random trains of thought_. She groaned and pressed her cooled hands to her forehead. She sucked in a breath and began counting backwards from ten.

"You know what?" She said softly when she was finished counting. She turned to stare him down with a threatening, yet appeasing, glare. Rukia's mood soured even more when she saw how he met her gaze with a simple, disdainful, and oddly… _distant_ look. It was like he was tuning her out or something. She didn't like it. "Just be on time from now on." She spat angrily and stomped over to the coffeepot before remembering that it was empty.

She paused for a few minutes; her back was turned towards him, allowing him to revel in the uncomfortable silence she just left behind. In her mind she congratulated herself for her little tirade. It was enough emotion so that he might fear her but not enough that he'd stop respecting her as a competent attorney. She had merely asserted her territory. From now on this was not his office alone, but hers as well.

She spun around and placed her hands on the back of the counter. Her fingers gripped the ledge. Her eyes went up to his face and she fixed her gaze on his nose. She didn't want to look into his amber eyes directly, she was too mad at him for that.

_I haven't known this guy for seventy two hours and I already hate him more than I hate anything else!_ She thought in aggravation. _This is just plain unnatural._

"Alright?" She demanded. She needed confirmation that he had at least heard her. Something like a meek little nod or maybe a stiff glare or even an exasperated rolling of the eyes.

He didn't answer. Rukia felt her body stiffen and she fought the urge to repeat herself. Two more seconds passed before she looked up into his eyes.

They were closed.

"Kurosaki!" She yelled.

His amber eyes fluttered open slowly and once again Rukia had to fight not to be blown away by the pure richness of their coloring. He blinked those eyes of his three times before he inclined his head and turned the full power of his gaze on her. He cocked his head to the side and smirked, "I'm sorry, did you say something?"

Silence. He tilted his head to the side and smirked lightly. Rukia's eye twitched and a muscle by her jaw ticked dangerously. She had never wanted to hit someone more in her entire life.

However, instead of hitting him, or even yelling at him, she chose to do something that would at least allow her to maintain some of her abused dignity. She stiffened her spine, narrowed her eyes, pulled together what pride she had left inside of her, grabbed her purse, and walked towards the door.

His intense stare followed her as she marched to the exit. Her heels were muffled by the softness of the carpet beneath her and her mouth was closed. She was quiet, silent… nonexistent. Her breathing was labored but it wasn't registered. She didn't look at him. He didn't deserve it.

He didn't say another word as she flung the door open and stepped outside. A few people meandering inside the hall gave her strange looks—most of all Orihime Inoue, who looked oddly… _relieved_—but her vision was tunneled.

She could only see the exit signs.

**(A/N: ****Please don't forget to REVIEW, REVIEW, and REVIEW!!**

**Remember, if you don't like my story then it wasn't written for you.)**


	7. Chapter 6

**Disclaimer: I do not own Bleach or any Bleach affiliates.**

_**Odalisque**_

**Chapter 6**

Rukia paced inside of her own office. _Her_ office. Her office alone. No one else. Her feet had already worn a groove into the floor and her toes were more than likely speckled with blisters. Momo was leaning on the desk near her, watching her speculatively. Her eyes were wary and somewhat guarded, as though she half-expected Rukia's head to explode at any second.

"He was late Momo," she snarled for the fourteenth time, "He showed up at ten after _ten_. How can I work with a man who doesn't even respect his company enough to show up for work on time?"

Momo remained silent and for that Rukia was grateful. She needed to vent, she didn't need to actually listen to anything resembling advice.

"He _insulted_ me, he didn't _listen_ to me, he _messed_ up his entire office before I got there, he has a creepy floor secretary, and his hair is _completely_ unprofessional. It _always_ looks like a disaster zone!" She stopped pacing for a minute to viciously kick at the leg of her desk. Momo jumped when she heard Rukia's foot connect with the metal and her eyes watched her with much more caution than they did before.

"And what I really can't understand," Rukia continued, still seething, "Is how he can make me angrier than I have ever been in my entire life!" She whirled around to Momo and the woman jumped softly, Rukia ignored her and kept venting, "How can he do that Momo? I've known the guy for maybe two days… _maybe_. You know me, I've been taught—no, I've been _trained—_to keep a cool head. I was raised by _Byakuya_. But this guy… he just worms his way past all of that and starts… oh, I don't know… _insulting_ me." She growled and kicked the desk again. "I hate him."

Momo was silent as Rukia continued to pace. The woman's eyes were gazing at her friend with something akin to speculation and even a bit of amusement.

Rukia didn't want to look into those calculating eyes so she turned away and kept moving. Her ridged body line sailed back and forth against in the office but Momo's eyes followed her.

"So what you're saying is…" she started slowly, "That he acts basically… like you act?"

Rukia twirled around and sent a chilling death glare to Momo, the woman brushed it off like it was nothing and tilted her head to the side, awaiting her answer.

"I do _not_ act like that." Rukia said stiffly.

Momo snorted, "Yes you do."

"I do not."

"You do too."

"I do not!"

"Liar, liar, pants on—"

Rukia threw her hands into the air and let out a shrill scream. She pointed an accusing finger at Momo and jabbed it into the air. "Now you're acting like him, all childish and rude."

Momo giggled and flipped her hair behind her. "I do not act childish. I act like I enjoy my life, which is much more than I can say for you."

"I enjoy my life," Rukia muttered sullenly. She crossed her arms over her chest and sulked to the other side of the room.

"Like hell you do."

Rukia clenched her jaw and rolled her eyes to the top of her head. "Momo, I swear to God, if you go into another rant about cats and vibrators I will strangle you without a second thought."

Momo only smiled and sighed. "Yeah right. Just think about this… Rukia, how do you act around clients?"

"Like I'm the boss." She responded acidly.

Momo hopped off of the desk and walked up to Rukia. She stepped in front of the tiny woman and placed her hands on her shoulders. Rukia turned her head to the side so as not to look into her eyes but didn't move out of the way. She was acting like a petulant child but she didn't care at the moment. She was too aggravated for that.

"Rukia," Momo said, she was talking slowly, enunciating carefully so Rukia wouldn't miss a word. "You act like an ass."

Her head snapped up to Momo's and an angry tirade pressed against the seam of her lips. She stopped short, however, when Momo took the initiative and continued speaking.

"You go for what you want and you ignore everyone else in the process. You charge into a room and act like you're the second coming. You're ruthless and you're rude and you don't take anyone else's problems into consideration—"

"Yes I—"

Momo cut her off with a sharp click of her teeth and narrowed her eyes. "Do you remember, two months ago when Toshiro and I got into that huge fight?"

Rukia's dark mood slinked further into its black hole and she nodded sullenly.

"You and I talked all night. I cried most of the time and when I asked you if I could stay home from work the next day you told me…" Momo cleared her throat and rearranged her pitch so she would sound similar to Rukia. "'Of course not Momo, we have work to do.'"

Rukia turned her head away guiltily.

Momo shook her shoulder lightly and continued, "I was a wreck Rukia and you _still_ insisted that I come into work."

She mumbled a few incoherent syllables and looked away again.

"You're just like this Ichigo Kurosaki person," Momo reasoned gently and patted Rukia's cheek with her hand, "Except you have a vagina."

Rukia swatted her hand away but couldn't help the smile that slipped onto her lips. "You're ridiculous." She muttered.

Momo sauntered lightly away and offered Rukia a freshly brewed cup of coffee. "Hon, you just have to learn to ignore him the way he's ignoring you."

"Kind or hard to do with his hair being the color it is," Rukia muttered nastily. "You could find the guy in the middle of a tsunami."

"Either way, you need to have some sort of tuning mechanism." She paused for a moment and methodically tapped her finger to her chin. "Like… when he talks to you… start repeating the constitution in your head… or find a nice memory you can refer to. Think back to sunny days on beaches or maybe you could replay a favorite movie scene in your head. Maybe you could think about your favorite song or—"

"Alright, alright," Rukia said, putting her hands into the air and sighing, "I think I can do that. It sounds easy enough." She paused for a moment and let a smile slide over her face, "Or I can just imagine chopping his head off with a chainsaw."

"Yes," Momo nodded, "Because that will make you hate him only a _little_ bit less." She rolled her eyes as Rukia pondered and returned to pacing the room.

"I guess I could work on that." She mumbled in agitation.

"Good," Momo answered and a toothy grin appeared on her face, "So are you going back to that office today?"

"Probably not," she answered moodily. "I'm going to finish a few things here that I didn't finish yesterday and then," she paused and heaved a large sigh, "I'll go back tomorrow."

"Bravo," Momo squealed and leaped over to where Rukia was standing. "But since you're not going back until tomorrow do you want to go out tonight?"

Rukia's eyes narrowed dangerously, "By 'going out' what do you mean, exactly?"

Rolled eyes, exasperated sighs, and a shaking head accompanied Momo's reply, "See, why do you have to ruin the surprise?"

"Because the surprise probably would have been you dragging me to some raunchy club."

Momo pouted. "True… but at least you would have been surprised."

"You know my designated areas," Rukia said, "Movies, the park, restaurants, and the occasional bar."

"I hate you." Momo scoffed, "You suck the fun out of life."

Rukia knew that Momo's statement wasn't meant to be mean, sarcastic maybe, but never mean. But the comment still stung. Rukia looked away and tried to focus her eyes on something other than her friend, who was still busily bouncing around the office.

She didn't mean to be such a killjoy, she just… _was_. It was how she was raised and it was how she lived. She had tried, in the past, to go out with Momo and try to 'live it up.' But it never worked. She was just too out-of-place to ever feel comfortable. So maybe she did suck the life out of things… she didn't try to, but she did.

_Like leeches,_ she mused, _they need to suck blood to survive… just like I suck life to… oh, that's not a very good analogy._

With the realization that she just compared herself to a leech, Rukia turned to Momo and smiled, "Movies, tonight?"

"Can I bring Toshiro?" Was the immediate question.

"I don't see why not." Rukia muttered, "Just so long as you keep your hands to yourself. You _know_ how I like to watch my movies in peace."

"You could always sit between us." She suggested innocently.

Rukia pretended to gag on her sip of coffee. "Please, last time I did that you _still_ managed to grope each other."

"Whatever." Momo answered childishly. "We'll swing by your place at seven. I'll make sure to choose a movie that's not to squishy, not too serious, and not to violent."

"Alright," Rukia sighed. She rubbed her fingers against her temples and realized that she hadn't thought about the orange-headed ass for nearly twenty minutes. She picked up her coffee cup and moved it to her desk. She wasn't exactly sure what she was going to do today. She had finished all of her files yesterday and all of her other cases had been handed off to the company's lower-level minions. She bit her lip thoughtfully and stared at her computer screen. Maybe she could just play free cell all day. If Ukitake came by and saw her then she would just make up some bullshit story about needing certain files finished in order to work over at Suigetsu Inc. for a while.

Rukia stared at her computer screen for a moment before sighing heavily, sitting in her chair, and pulling up the website for the dating service.

She might as well finish the damn thing.

-!!-

Rukia ended up sitting seven rows down from Momo and Toshiro, who weren't even able to keep their hands off of one another through the previews.

The movie wasn't all that bad. There was some blood, some screaming, some romance, and some drama. Rukia made it a rule not to ever watch a movie that had too much of any of those elements; she didn't know why, but if a movie had too much of any of those it annoyed her. She liked even, balanced, movies.

So she sat, in a pair of dark jeans and a light blue turtleneck, with a small bag of popcorn on her lap and a diet soda in the cup holder, watching a nicely balanced movie while Momo and her boyfriend tried to smother their raucous laughter seven rows back.

When it was over, she and her friends met up outside, said their goodbyes, and went their separate ways. Rukia tried hard not to notice how Momo's cheeks blushed happily when Toshiro hugged her around the middle, or how his normally cool face broke into a warm grin when Momo kissed him on the cheek, or how their hands were linked by their fingers on the way out of the theater. Rukia simply stood and watched them go. People passed by her but she kept her eyes on her friends until they turned, waved, and crept around a corner and out of her line of vision.

Rukia swallowed and turned herself. Her chic apartment building was only a couple of blocks away so she really didn't need to take the metro.

The night was dark and relatively cool, considering it was late spring, so Rukia tucked her arms in close to her body. She craned her neck upwards and was just able to make out a couple of constellations through the gleaming streetlights. For a fleeting moment she wished she could be in the park right now, in a dark grove, lying on the grass, watching the stars…

She shook the thought from her head immediately. There would be a time and a place for such thoughts… preferably when she was older and retired, but definitely not now. Certainly not when she was just put on the most important case of her life and was up for a very important promotion.

Her mind drifted back to the online dating profile she had completed earlier today. It had taken a good couple of hours—not to mention it was made even more difficult when Momo began dangling over her shoulder, making suggestions and corrections—to finish the thing but now that it was complete Rukia felt a strange sense of… of…

Hell, she didn't know what it was. She didn't hate the fact that she had done it but she wasn't rejoicing either. It was like her opinion was stuck in some sort of a limbo. Maybe when it came time for someone to be chosen for her she would finally make up her mind about how she felt. It wasn't like she was hopeful or anything; she didn't expect the service to send her some prince charming that would come to her riding on a white stallion and sweep her immediately off of her feet. She just… she wanted…

Rukia closed her eyes and felt a cool breeze waft over her face. Truth be told she didn't know what she wanted. She wasn't sure she wanted what Momo and Toshiro had, all that love and commitment and gooey kissy-kissy stuff just made onlookers and friends alike want to vomit.

She wanted only a few things from a man… any man actually. One of them was definitely sex. Yes, any man that she stayed with had to be good at sex. It didn't have to happen every night, but often enough that she would remain satisfied. And if she did end up going out—she didn't like the word _dating_, it implied too much—with a guy from the service then sex definitely wouldn't even be discussed until after they had been seeing each other for a long while.

He would have to be physically attractive as well. She smirked softly and thought of her perfect man. Much to her chagrin she could only picture well oiled and trimmed Italian male models, who, she knew, would never go out with her. So, instead of trying to picture her perfect man, she began to imagine qualities.

He would be younger than Ukitake but just as kind. He would be taller than Toshiro but equally astute. He would be more conversational than her brother but just as smart. He would—

Rukia blinked and tried to think of other men she knew and much to her horror her mind was coming up completely blank. She extended her hand and stretched her fingers. She held up one for Byakuya, one for Ukitake, one for Toshiro, and one for the water-bottle guy in the park. Rukia swallowed hard, there were others, but she hadn't been in touch with any of them in years. Old college professors, childhood friends, and a couple of coworkers popped into her mind. But none of them stood out exceptionally far.

"Oh good God," she moaned as she pressed a warm hand to her forehead. "I _am_ a cat lady… only I don't have a cat."

Rukia kept her hand pressed to her head as she walked down another block. She needed to stop thinking like that. It was during dangerous times like these that Momo's theories and crazy ideas about speed dating, online services, and clubbing actually made sense.

She just needed to go home, drink some wine, and go to bed. Rukia wrinkled her nose and shook her head, no wine tonight. She wanted to go face the jerk-wad tomorrow without sections of her brain throbbing.

Throughout the rest of her walk Rukia reminded herself to keep her eyes on the sky and search out different constellations rather than think about the limited number of men she knew.

Oh, okay, so there was _one_ that she didn't mention.

"Orange-haired idiot." She seethed. She paused and drew in a deep breath. Tomorrow she would have to turn over something akin to a new leaf with the man. She would ignore him. That was it, she would just ignore him. It was like Momo said, all she needed to do was play a part of a movie in her head, or a song, or a memory. She just needed to tune him out.

"I will expect nothing from him," she mused vocally, "I will do all of the work myself and he can do whatever the hell he wants." A hint of pride entered her voice and her mind drifted to when the merger would be complete. Rukia bent her head back and smiled… champagne glasses, confetti, suits and ties and little black dresses, maybe even party hats… not that she would be wearing one, but still, it would be entertaining. The bosses would congratulate her while Kurosaki scowled in a corner. She would get a promotion, a raise, and three weeks paid vacation—as a gift.

Rukia couldn't help the grin that surfaced on her features from spreading. Holding expectations that were _that_ high could be dangerous. But she knew she could do it. She was Rukia Kuchiki, she could do anything.

It was from that moment on, as she was walking home from an evening at the movies, where Rukia vowed that she would have her own congratulatory ceremony, be it with Kurosaki or without.

-!!-

Rukia's chair arrived at exactly seven thirty the next morning.

"Over there please," she told the man in a clipped voice. He nodded and rolled her plush chair next to Kurosaki's chair. Rukia smiled softly as she compared them. Childish yes, but still… her chair was _so_ much better than his.

The man adjusted it once before going towards the exit. Rukia stood confidently to the side and paid him before he left. As he trudged down the hallway Rukia could have sworn that she heard him mutter something about not starting work until nine.

_The early bird catches the worm,_ Rukia told herself. That had been another of her brothers' mantras back when she lived with him. He had several and it had only been in the past few years that Rukia actually began to take them on as her own. She had even added a few phrases to his repertoire.

"Sarcasm is the body's natural defense against stupidity." Rukia chimed in happily. Yes… of all of her sayings that one had to be her favorite. Not to mention it was also applicable to the real world. Kurosaki was a perfect example. He was stupid in his own way and she would most definitely have to employ sarcasm to keep him in his place.

His subservient place, of course.

Once she had her chair in place and her coffee brewing, Rukia booted up her computer, played a preliminary game of free cell—that game is so addicting—and went to work.

This type of acquisition would be what was called a horizontal merger, where both companies created the same products and sold them in the same general fields. Rukia knew this to be the best type, seeing as how there was no conflicting stock or irate buyers to deal with when shifting back and forth between companies. The only thing that was a bit irritating was that Yamamoto and Aizen wanted every detail, every stock option, and every department reviewed and revised before the merger even took place.

So this once simple operation was now a lengthy and drawn out process. Rukia would have to contact every department of each corporation, from the labor force to the foreign stock investment group to the domestic gross faction and so on and so forth. She had to review every file from all departments to make sure they complied with the statutes and laws affiliated with the new merger.

Granted, this thing would take far less time if she had actually been assigned a team of well-educated people to work with—well, under her actually—instead of one single jerk of a partner. Not that he was even working, of course, he was letting her do all of the grunt work, the brain work, and the filing.

_Happy place,_ Rukia reminded herself sternly. _Think of your happy place._

The morning hours flew by quickly, or at least, relatively quickly. She was able to finish three files for a secondary sub-department of an actual department. She rolled her eyes and had to remind herself of the huge promotional party that would be thrown in her honor once she finished this job.

Nine o'clock rolled around and Rukia took a moment to get up, stretch, and retrieve another cup of coffee. Her eyes scanned the open door and she saw that several people were milling around. A few passed her office and glanced inside and she nodded to them curtly. The moment she turned she heard the whispers begin.

Rukia rolled her eyes and sipped her coffee. _Great,_ she grumbled, _gossips, just what I need around here._

Back at Gotei Corp. anyone who had half a brain knew not to mess with, gossip about, or even stare at her for too long. Death, or at least, a demotion, would follow exceedingly quickly if they did. Rukia propped herself on the frame of the door and leaned back casually. She noticed that Inoue was at her desk, busy taking calls and stapling papers. She grinned when she thought of how her life and Inoue's lives were so different. Inoue was stuck stapling papers and Rukia… well, Rukia would soon be looking at a seven figure salary.

The satisfaction was only increased by the fact that she didn't like Inoue very much.

She scowled when she glanced over at the empty desk. It was alright… she would just ignore him. She didn't care if he was here on time.

Rukia bit her bottom lip and moved back to her computer. She pulled up another addicting free cell game and began to click the cards around. The problem about this whole 'ignoring' him and 'not acknowledging' him was that she didn't know how long she could keep it up. She _did_ care when he showed up for work, she _did_ care that he actually did his job, and she _did_ want to have some sort of business rapport with him. It didn't have to be a good rapport… just a rapport.

_What a strange word,_ Rukia sighed as she polished off her first game, _I wonder if it's French…_

She played a few more games before going back to work. It was bland and mundane but it was constant. Maybe that's what she liked so much about the law. Each day she could come in to work, know exactly what she was going to do, do it, and then go home. Some people would call that type of lifestyle boring, dull, or even monotonous. To Rukia it was just the way to live. It had even been the same when she lived with her brother; he got up, ate a grapefruit, went to work, came home, ate dinner, and went to bed.

It was safe.

She smiled and exited the computer game. She began to hum and wondered if she should bring in some classical music just to make the day less quiet.

The clock tolled on until almost nine thirty. Rukia had finished nearly half of a file on a secondary subdivision of an actual department when the door to the office opened.

"Sunshine," he drawled, pulling the single word out into five syllables. "Didn't think I'd see you aga—what the hell did you do to my desk?"

The anger that had been building at the mention of the appellation 'sunshine' was erased the moment she heard the irritation building in his voice. A smirk formed on Rukia's face and she calmly looked up at him. At her insistence, elevator music began playing inside of her mind. Calming… soothing… relaxing…

"Our desk," she said flatly, an edge of nonchalance in her voice. She inclined her head towards him and gave him a chilled smile. "We, as it seems, have to share a desk until I am able to get one for myself." She indicated towards the large space between their chairs. "Don't worry though, I've given you plenty of room."

She sent him an icy look and smirked, "You're _welcome_."

The look that spanned the entire length of his repugnant face would have been called astonishment. His jaw was slightly unhinged, his eyes were wide, and his nostrils were flaring occasionally.

Rukia smile turned sickly sweet and she pulled up another free cell game. She wanted to appear _disinterested_, enough so that he would allow her to continue with her elevator music.

Rukia's ears perked softly when she heard him tread into the carpeted room even more. Out of the corner of her eye she noticed him place his briefcase on top of a counter, pivot, and turn away. Her gaze stayed on his broad back and then switched to his arms and his legs. She noticed the terse shoulder muscles, the gripped fists, and the tense thighs; all of them made her mawkish smile turn into a self-satisfied smirk as she watched him walk out of the office.

_Who's annoying whom now? _Rukia thought snidely. She clicked an extra number to the top of her free cell game and began humming the elevator music. "Bastard." She muttered.

Rukia didn't have to wait long. In only a minute or two he reappeared, or, at least, his buttocks did. Rukia had to mentally scold herself for noticing his posterior before any other part of him. She told herself that it was, in fact, the most obvious area to look partially because it was the first thing in her range of vision.

_Notice his dorsal area first, Rukia._ She said inwardly. _Not his very nicely shaped center of gravity._

Her eyes stayed glued to his shoulders as he moved further inside of the room. Rukia's eyebrows jerked upwards and a tick began near her temple when she saw that there was something stuck in his hands.

Kurosaki didn't make a sound as he came further into the office, dragging a small desk along with him. Her jaw loosened slightly when she saw it completely. It was a child's desk, the kind of desk that was found in middle schools and detention rooms. It was made out of fake wood attached by metal bars to a plastic seat.

The first thought through her mind was: _Where did he find that thing?_ The second was: _What the hell does he think he's going to do with it?_

Her eyes followed him patiently as he moved inside and dragged the desk along with him. He skidded it against the worn carpet and shoved it into a deserted corner of the room. It tipped to the side before the poor thing wobbled and returned—in a cloud of dust—into its new spot.

Once the desk was pitifully situated Kurosaki straightened, turned, and focused the entire power of his angry stare onto Rukia Kuchiki.

He took two steps forward and Rukia didn't move. She held his stare. His eyes were furrowed much more than usual and she almost gave into the desire to laugh at his ridiculously strange face. His long strides covered the entirety of the space between them in seconds. There were small vibrations up her chair whenever he moved. She didn't dare take her eyes away from his but she knew that his fists were still clenched. His body was very close to the desk; in one more stride he had planted himself directly in front of her. She took note of his body posture as he leaned forward, moved his clenched hands in front of him, and smacked them onto the desk. The only objects separating them were her laptop and her coffee cup—both easily removable, Rukia noticed with dissatisfaction.

Violet sapphires met with honeyed amber and stayed. Rukia could sense that this was much more than a simple staring contest; it was a battle of wills. Hers would not be broken and neither would his. She dared to narrow her eyes and flattened her slow smirk into a deadly line. She would not lose this battle.

"Nice desk." She said dryly.

His eyes didn't leave hers. His lips pulled back into a small growl and he narrowed his gaze, still scowling hard.

He jerked his arm out and pointed his index finger towards the pathetic desk in the corner. Her eyes still didn't leave his. "Sit."

Her eyes were hard glints of violet marble and her flattened mouth became pursed and bloodless. "Do you think I'm a dog, Kurosaki?"

He cocked his head to the side and smirked, "I don't think you want me to answer that, _Kuchiki_."

"That's why is was a rhetorical question."

"Aren't you the smart one?"

Rukia glared at him, "I don't think you want me to answer that, Kurosaki."

"That's why it was a rhetorical question." He shot back.

Rukia leaned casually back in her chair and cocked an eyebrow. "My, my, my… our second day and you're already parroting everything I'm saying. My god, you're easier to train than a terrier, _Kurosaki_." She spat his name out like filth.

"I thought we'd already established that dog comparisons weren't adequate."

"For me, maybe, but most certainly not for you."

"Perhaps I wouldn't have to _parrot_ what you say if you would just shut up."

Rukia's lips, eyes, brow, and nose began to work together to form the most withering glare ever present on a human face. But on top of that, on top of all of the malice she was exuding, was a grin that could have insulted anyone on the planet.

She cocked her head to the side, crossed her arms, and said, "How original… does the writer's guild know about you?"

Death.

That's what she saw in his eyes.

Mirth.

That's what was shining in her face.

Rukia leaned forward onto her desk—for it was _her_ desk now, she had laid absolute claim to it in this very argument—and placed her elbows on the top. She laced her fingers together in a steepled pattern and pressed the tips against her curved lips. Her eyes darted up to his and she made sure that he saw the steel drawn inside of them. From the outside she was the picture of perfection: fantastically groomed, leaning forward with an impossibly straight spine, a marbled face with a passive-aggressive expression, and eye contact that was as solid as stone.

It was Kurosaki who looked so flustered he could barely speak. His hair was mussed and wild, his eyes were sparkling and furious, his posture was terribly distorted, his muscles were tense, and his face was even uglier than usual.

She was in control. She was the boss. She ruled this office.

Rukia took a millisecond to bask in the glory of this achievement. And in that millisecond she also privileged herself one nanosecond to mark this as a small victory for all women working anywhere in the corporate world.

Then she turned back to him.

"From where I'm sitting," Rukia began, enjoying the ironic twist to her words, "You have three options." She raised her hand like a kindergarten teacher and began to count them off, all the while ignoring the tick pulsating in his cheek.

"One," she said, "You can share this space with me, as I have so _generously_ offered before. You get half of the desk, as well as a little bit of your dignity, back."

Wow, just look at that tick go.

"Two," she continued, "You may choose to sit in that desk you so lovingly stuffed in the corner." She smiled sweetly and raised an eyebrow, "However if you do that I might just be tempted to place a dunce cap on your head."

Could spontaneous combustion just occur in the head region?

"Three," she said with finality, "You may leave."

_Rukia one, Kurosaki zero._

The glaring contest had resumed. She and Kurosaki were staring at each other with every ounce of their strength. She knew she was winning though. She had the upper hand, the power… _and_ she had the desk. Sure, she didn't know if she'd be able to keep it past today but that didn't matter. She had it, she was sitting, yet he was just standing there, trying to look imposing but failing miserably. She was the winner for today.

They must have stayed that way for at least fifteen minutes. Rukia, in order to combat the insufferable boredom that was accompanying this outrageously lengthy and silent debate, began playing the elevator music in her head. She stared at him hard and didn't let her eyes go glassy. She did not look to the side, she did not yawn, she did not speak, and she barely blinked.

Face it, Rukia Kuchiki could out stare a dead man… and Ichigo Kurosaki was not a dead man.

They would have continued this all day. Hell, Rukia knew that she could have done it; despite her small size she did not tire easily, not to mention she possessed the bladder of a thirty-five year old male, she could keep this thing going for _hours_.

The only thing that broke through their I-Wish-You-Were-Dead staring match was a soft knock on the door and the appearance of a red haired woman sporting a large chest, a dangerously low cut shirt, a tight skirt, and a bright, vacuous, smile.

"Mr. Kurosaki?"

He didn't move.

Neither did she.

Orihime Inoue shifted nervously at the door. Her eyes swept the scene before her and she knocked again. "Mr. Kurosaki?"

He still didn't move.

Neither did she.

Inoue fluttered near the entrance of the office and kept on shifting her stance. She seemed both displeased and irritated as she stood there. This kept on for nearly two more minutes before she gave a squeaky sigh and approached them.

"Mr. Kurosaki?" She reached her hand forward and touched him lightly on the shoulder.

He jerked away.

_Victory._

Rukia didn't notice the expression that crossed Inoue's face at the reaction her touch stimulated. Her eyes were only on him.

"Yes, Inoue, what did you want?"

His voice was grating and rough. Inoue's expression didn't change but Rukia didn't pay attention to it. She was too busy glaring at his frowning face, his arrogant eyebrows, his fuming eyes, and his red face.

_I shouldn't be enjoying this as much as I am._ She thought absently. It took her only a second to realize that she didn't actually care if taking pleasure in this was politically correct or not. For the first time in a long time she was actually enjoying herself with a man. Albeit the fact that her actual enjoyment was really torturing him.

_This isn't the time to be politically correct Rukia,_ she told herself, _just have fun with it while you can._

Inoue looked timidly at the ground. "Mr. Ichimaru wanted to see you in his office." She paused softly and kept on shifting her weight from foot to foot. Her eyes were darting back and forth between them and she bit her bottom lip. "Um… now."

Rukia's smirking grin grew wider and wider. She cocked an eyebrow up even more and tilted her head to the side.

"I think you need to leave now." She said softly… dangerously.

"I'll be back," he growled.

"Thanks for the update, Arnold," she replied, her dripping sarcasm doused by the iron-clad tone of her voice. "But I won't be waiting."

He gave her another brain-sizzling, mind-numbing, head-combusting stare. Rukia weathered it like an Eskimo in a snowstorm and began playing the elevator music once again. After about three more seconds of hard-core glaring Kurosaki stood, turned, and stomped out of her office.

His footsteps left a veritable wake behind him. Rukia could still hear them as he continued to the elevator and jammed his finger into the button.

The sudden urge to jump out of her chair and do a victory dance was overwhelming. Rukia, however, did not allow herself to leap out of her chair. Instead she settled on grinning like an idiot and allowing herself to play a congratulatory game of free cell.

While she clicked all of the proper cards into all of the proper places, silently damning herself for not having a camera with her during that altercation, she didn't even notice the remaining presence of Orihime Inoue.

The young woman was standing there, staring at the space where Kurosaki had exited in a cloud of rage, just prancing from one foot to the other. Once Rukia noticed she was there, she tactfully decided to ignore her. When nearly a whole minute had passed with her simply staring and shifting, Rukia glanced up and blandly asked, "Did you need something… In—Orihime?" She had to remind herself to use the woman's first name instead of her last.

Her head turned to Rukia and she blinked a few times before smiling brightly.

If Rukia could have rolled her eyes she would have. _Dear god,_ she thought, _does the woman have to look so… vacant… all the time?_

"He really _is_ a nice guy," she said softly. Rukia's eyes lifted from her game and she frowned gently at the woman. Her voice had been laced with something akin to… yearning?

_My, my, my… is Ms. Inoue a little sweet on Mr. Kurosaki?_ Rukia's mind curled around the idea and when it hit her fully she felt like gagging. How someone could even be remotely attracted to someone like him was beyond her understanding.

_There must be something about him that draws her in…_ she mused. _Could it be his disgusting scowl? How revoltingly tall he was? Maybe it's his arrogance._

Rukia shrugged, she knew that some girls liked guys like that. She just didn't know why. When she finally decided on someone—be it a random man on the street or someone chosen for her by a complex computer algorithm—she was going to be his equal in every way. She wouldn't just sit around aimlessly and watch him be an ass all the time… like Inoue seemed to be doing.

She pursed a smile through her teeth and nodded her head curtly, "I'm sure you think so."

Inoue turned to face her and a pretty frown began to form on her eyes. "But he is. He's very nice… generous, caring, and compassionate…"

She felt like gagging again, only this time the sensation of near-vomiting also plagued her stomach and throat. Rukia's patience was running very thin. She tapped on her mouse lightly and nodded again. Hell, she would just have to placate the woman if she couldn't say what she _really _thought of Ichigo Kurosaki.

"Maybe once I get to know him better." She said with a false smile carefully lighting up her features. She even employed the use of her 'happy voice' in order to make it seem a bit more believable.

Inoue nodded enthusiastically and smiled. "Oh don't worry. When you get to know him you'll like him a _lot_."

_And just how well _do_ you know him, Ms. Inoue? _Was the question on the tip of Rukia's tongue. She held it in. Her jaw tightened as she attempted to stifle the dark laughter that was bubbling in the pit of her stomach. God this woman was irritating. "Thank you Orihime," she said in a clipped tone, "I'll keep that in mind."

Inoue nodded to Rukia and smiled kindly. Although, no matter how large her smile was, how far back her lips were pulled, or how bright her teeth were, there was no disguising that tiny glint in her eyes. Rukia knew that type of gleam well. It was one that accompanied wistfulness and, dare she say it, jealousy.

Inoue walked out quickly, her heels tapped on the ground and Rukia's eyes followed her shining red hair as she left. There was just something about that girl… something that made Rukia want to be aware of her. She had a feeling in her gut that she needed to keep a tab or two on her.

She finished her games and pulled out a few more files, briefly wondering whether Kurosaki would be back in the office anytime soon. She doubted it but she guessed that they both deserved their days. Yesterday she was able to leave the office in a flurry of hate, and today, since she reciprocated the spiteful favor, it was his day to leave in a flurry of hate. She would be generous enough and give it to him. Rukia smiled to herself, yes, she was a very nice person to let him have his day.

_He's like a groundhog in that respect._ She thought absently, realizing that in the past hour she's compared Kurosaki to two different animals.

An hour later, when she was knee-deep in files and accounts, she thought back to the strategies that Momo had told her to use. She realized that while the elevator music might have been successful at first, she had ended up fighting with him anyway.

_Oh well,_ she thought lightly, _I don't mind._

**(A/N: First off: While the desk thing might be like MMH don't worry, it will be different.**

**Remember, if you don't like my story then it wasn't written for you.**

**PLEASE DON'T FORGET TO REVIEW!!)**


	8. Chapter 7

**Disclaimer: I do not own Bleach or any Bleach affiliates.**

_**Odalisque**_

**Chapter ****7**

Ichigo Kurosaki came very close to ruining a trade agreement with New Zealand today. Although it wouldn't have happened if Rukia Kuchiki had pissed him off. If that damn dwarf hadn't been sitting in _his_ desk when he walked into the office, utilizing _his_ personal space, and breathing _his_ air, then he wouldn't have nearly lost New Zealand.

It wasn't like he actually cared what happened with New Zealand or not, it was Uryu who cared, and he was the one who had been dealing with them when Ichigo decided to burst into his office, stomp up to his seat, and demand that Uryu give him one of his sewing needles so he could use it to '_poke the eyes out of that damn woman._'

Needless to say the _three_ female executives of the New Zealand Electronics Company, who had been prepared to buy large amounts of stock from Suigetsu Inc., hadn't been too pleased with this sudden and insulting statement. They had all stared at him like the three witches from Macbeth, ready to flay his skin right off of his body as soon as the opportune time was at hand.

So here Ichigo was, pacing outside of his 'friends' office, fuming, while inside Uryu attempted to apologize for his Tourette-inflicted friend.

"Yes," he heard Uryu say sadly, "Once I introduced him to my grandmother and he accidentally told her to do something rather inappropriate with her knitting needles."

A resounding gasp came from inside the room.

Ichigo could just picture Uryu nodding his head solemnly over the completely fabricated event. "I know… I know… it's a terrible thing really, I have a theory that it might be connected with the absurdity of his hair color."

A murmur of collective understanding infiltrated his ears.

"He's getting help though… now, where was I? Oh yes… in the next three years you can be guaranteed a tripling of your stock value…"

Ichigo tuned him out from there and concentrated on how, exactly, he was going to deal with the toad currently lodged in his office.

"I'm going to have to buy a new desk," he muttered vindictively, "She _touched_ it."

He grimaced and realized how childish that might sound to another human being—discarding a desk just because a woman had touched it, yeah, he sounded like he was in the second grade and still deathly afraid of cooties. Still, when it came to _this_ particular woman, there were no exceptions. She was evil and he had to discard anything she had ever touched for fear of contracting the bubonic plague.

The New Zealanders were beginning to exit the office and every single one of them gave Ichigo a strangely sympathetic look when they passed him on their way out. A few began muttering sympathies for him while he distinctly heard another one advise medication on his behalf.

Uryu's head popped out from the room as he bid his buyers goodbye and tactfully waited for the elevator doors to close before rounding on Ichigo and dryly saying, "I'm not ruining my sewing needles with someone else's blood, so you can forget it."

"That was only my first option," Ichigo snarled as he angrily stepped into Uryu's office uninvited, "Options number two and three involve kitchen knives or knitting needles, I'm sure you have those around as well."

The door shut behind them, "Don't be so dramatic, Kurosaki." He paused for a moment and shrugged, "And yes, in fact, I do own knitting needles. Still, stop acting like a drama queen, Kurosaki."

"You're just not getting the big picture, _Uryu_," Ichigo shot back, "You don't have to share your office with a pint-sized she-demon who would rather bite my head off than talk to me."

"Lots of people would actually like do that, you know."

Ichigo slumped down into Uryu's chair and slithered his feet onto the desk. His Italian loafers shined in the sunny light gleaming through the window. He leaned his head back in the chair and groaned. A headache was throbbing at his temples now and he hated it.

"Kurosaki, why are you in my office?" Uryu walked a few steps forward and sat in a chair that had been vacated by a New Zealander. "If you've come here just to bitch and moan about some problem you have with a woman then I'd surmise to say that you have the mind set of a thirteen year old girl running to tell her friends about a boy who called her ugly."

Ichigo sent him a horrible glare. Uryu ignored it. Ichigo growled and wondered why his stares seemed to be losing their effect on people. First the demon-dwarf and now Uryu… what was the world coming to?

"I'm escaping," he said flatly, "From _her_."

"I see…"

"And also because if I go anywhere near her within the next thirty minutes I'm likely to end up tackling her and wringing her neck."

"Of course."

"I'm serious."

"I'm sure you are."

"I need to get rid of her."

"Kurosaki, you have more experience with getting rid of women than I do."

Ichigo ignored the dig and wrinkled his nose menacingly. "But you have sharp pointy things hidden somewhere in this office."

Uryu sighed and rolled his eyes to the top of his head. "Kurosaki…" he closed his eyes and shook his head. "You need to go in and deal with her."

"Maybe when I have a weapon in my hands."

"Alright… get out."

Ichigo lifted his eyes to his friends face and glared. He straightened, removed his feet from the desk, and stood from the chair. "Fine, but I'm going to blame you if she cuts off my balls when I step back inside."

"You just need to find some way of talking to her without getting into an argument." Uryu glared at him, "Or maybe you just need to stop talking since all you really do is argue anyway."

"I do _not_ argue with people all the time."

Uryu's look was pointed and ironic. Ichigo glared back at him and began to walk towards the door. His posture was hard as he tried to prepare himself for another meeting with the female version of Lucifer.

"You know…"

Uryu's voice slowed him on the way out.

He turned towards him. Uryu sat properly in the chair, his arm resting on the table and his fingers drumming lightly against the wood. His cool blue eyes were staring contemplatively out the window and he cocked his head slightly. "This Kuchiki woman," he began slowly, "Isn't like the other women you're used to being around."

"You're right about that," Ichigo seethed, "She's _evil_."

"Not that," Uryu grumbled, "What I mean is that she's different. She's not going to take your crap just because she wants to sleep with you." He gave Ichigo a penetrating stare, "She doesn't… right?"

"She'd rather see me dead."

"Good," Uryu continued, "Then maybe you should start treating her like she has a brain and not just a vagina."

_Ew._ Ichigo thought. "I do not think of all women in that way." He scoffed and crossed his arms over his chest. "I can't help it if women want what I can give them. It's not like it's _my _fault."

"It's partly your fault." Uryu pointed out, "Whatever happened to 'just say no'?"

Ichigo glared at him, "You try saying no to women when they're tearing their clothes off and going after yours."

"You could try."

"I _have_ tried."

"Not hard enough apparently."

"Uryu…" he growled, "I'm not a saint, I'm a guy, and if a girl wants to sleep with me and I'm in the mood then…" he shrugged, already annoyed, "Why not have a good time?"

"So basically, boys will be boys?"

"Sure. If you want to put it that way. But it's only half of it."

The pointed look grew even worse.

Ichigo glared at him and snarled. "Shove off Uryu."

With that he exited the office, completely ready to avoid Rukia Kuchiki for the rest of the day.

-!!-

Rukia sat at a lunch table in the company cafeteria and munched on her leafy greens once again. Well, she did have at least one good thing to say about Suigetsu Inc.: they certainly had better food than the cafeteria at Gotei Corp. Well, in the salads at least, the chicken was a bit firmer and wasn't raw in the center. Although she still didn't know what those tiny patches of yellow sprinkled on the inside of her dish were. Corn, perhaps? Did people actually put corn in salad?

"Surprise!"

Rukia's eyes shot up and a small gasp escaped her mouth. "Momo!" She cried, "What are you doing here?"

The young woman didn't have to be invited to sit down; she simply smiled at Rukia, pulled a second chair back and placed her bum inside the seat. She pulled her purse off of her shoulder and set it on the table.

"Just thought I'd join you for lunch." She said happily. Her hair was up in a bun once again, her cheeks were tinged with pink, and her lips were curved into a beatific smile. "I'm so lonely just sitting there with your office so empty." Her mouth curved into a pout and she grabbed a carrot slice from Rukia's salad. "It's no fun without you there."

Rukia smothered a small smile and watched as Momo pulled out a sandwich and a soda from her own lunch bag. She bit into it happily and grinned at her friend. She was glad to see Momo, she really was. All day she had been surrounded by people who either didn't know her or didn't bother to make an acquaintance with her, so it was pretty nice to finally see a familiar face, especially if that face was beaming as brightly as Momo's.

"So… how's your life been going?" Her friend asked happily as she munched on her sandwich.

The sadistic curve on Rukia's lips had Momo's attention in a heartbeat. "What is it?" She demanded hungrily. She leaned forward and widened her eyes just a bit. Rukia's eyebrow arched and she shrugged, Momo must be hungry for some sort of conversation to be this into what she was saying.

Nevertheless, Rukia took a victory bite before smirking. "I made him my bitch."

"No!"

"Yep," she snickered. "I came in and completely mauled his cocky, sadistic, attitude." She swallowed and smiled, "But this was how it happened… he brought in this tiny, child-sized desk, and ordered me to sit in it."

"Ordered?" Momo gasped.

"Ordered." Rukia affirmed. She pushed a few things around in her plastic bowl and continued, "We had a staring contest—I won—and I gave him the rules," she pulled up her fingers and twitched them upwards, "He could sit in the desk with me, use the tiny kid desk, or leave."

"And?" Her friend asked, her voice was way too eager for more details.

"Inoue came in and told him that Ichimaru wanted to see him." Rukia snorted and wrinkled her nose, "That saved his ass. I would have wiped the floor with it if he had stayed."

Momo began to eat the second half of her sandwich, "So no elevator music?" She asked knowingly.

Rukia sighed and shook her head, "I tried, Momo, I really did. He just kept talking and I just got so _annoyed_." She wrinkled her nose and suddenly felt the hunger in her stomach boil over into anger.

"Damn him." She muttered.

"I can't believe you said that," Momo murmured. Her voice had a trace of awe inside of it. She nibbled on her crust and grinned. "I'm happy for you."

"Yeah, but I'm not sure how long the victory will last." Rukia admitted, she wiggled her fork in her hand and frowned, "Hell, I might come back to the office and he might be there, sitting in the desk." She scowled and took a disgusted bite, "Waiting for me."

"Probably," Momo said. She wiggled her eyebrows and tapped her feet on the floor. She hummed a little tune and grinned happily.

Rukia, knowing that look, rolled her eyes and sighed, "So… what did you and Toshiro do last night?" Her voice was flat and she sounded completely disinterested but Momo perked up anyway. Her eyes sparkled happily and she giggled.

"Well, now since you _asked_," she let out a dramatic squeal and grinned goofily. "He made me dinner last night." Her cheeks became pink and she actually began to hug herself as she reminisced. "You should have seen him stirring that linguini… oh it was _so_ sexy! And how he seasoned the salmon!" She licked her lips and sighed. "It was _so_ romantic."

The frown lines in Rukia's forehead could have rivaled the Grand Canyon for depth. Cooking was sexy? How did that figure? Whenever Rukia tried to make something she always ended up covered in batter, flour, and some type of mix of blood and juice. Making a mess of things didn't seem remotely sexy to her. Oh well, maybe Toshiro actually knew what he was doing.

"Okay…" Rukia muttered, pushing the rest of her salad away. Hearing Momo talk about how Toshiro cooked for her made her appetite mysteriously dissipate. "And…?"

Momo leaned forward into the table and whispered eagerly into Rukia's waiting ears. "_I_ think he's building up."

Rukia's blank stare went even blanker so she twisted an eyebrow upwards, hoping Momo would elaborate. "You think he's what?"

Momo pushed Rukia's arm playfully but with insistently growing intent. "Building up, Rukia… _building up_." She glanced over both of her shoulders before turning back and whispering, "To the… you know… the _proposal._"

"Oh." Was the answer Momo received.

The look on Momo's face would have scared little children.

"Oh?" Her friend gasped, "_Oh! _Rukia, what do you mean 'oh?' Come on, this is my future husband we could be talking about! I need more than one lousy 'oh!'"

Rukia threw her palms up in defense, "Sorry, sorry…" she drew in a deep breath and placed both of her hands on the table, her fingers were fisted though, so as not to get any viral germs onto them—really, who knew who had sneezed on these things? Disregarding that notion after a moment's thought, she pulled the full force of her magnificent stare on her friend and gave Momo her complete attention. "Have you chosen what you're going to wear to the dinner yet? Was that a bit less lousy?"

"Yes," Her answer was immediate, although Rukia wasn't sure which question she was answering. "Halter top dress, black, stiletto heels, diamond earrings, rosy-peach lipstick."

"Sounds good," Rukia murmured, she had seen the dress that Momo was referring to, it showed a bit more cleavage than Rukia would have suggested but she thought that with the heels and the earrings it would all go over very well. Momo would look both sultry and sweet at the same time. She knew that Toshiro would be stunned out of his mind by the mere sight of her. "Toshiro will be enthralled." She assured her friend, who had started to panic during Rukia's moment of silent contemplation.

A beatific smile passed over Momo's face and she giggled happily. A couple of women passed by their table and gave them strange stares but Momo didn't notice a single one of them. She was too wrapped up in her own happiness to notice anything.

Rukia's eyes scanned the cafeteria. It was well-lit and had many tables scattered around. All of them had fake flowers stuffed into plastic vases in the center of each plastic top. To the side of the room there was also a very long line of sneeze-guarded food trays, each was manned by a personal attendant, and they displayed everything from salad to pasta to rubbery steak to wiggling jell-o. All in all it wasn't exactly a bad place. As cafeterias went it was actually… pretty nice.

There was also the issue of the people inside of it. Everywhere she looked Rukia saw people she didn't know. Granted, she didn't associate with many people at Gotei Corp. either but at least she recognized their faces. Here she just saw skirted women she didn't know, men—everywhere from mid-twenties to mid-eighties—she didn't recognize, and occasionally big-shots she had seen in newspapers and magazines would breeze through the area.

Most of them—the women in particular—gave her funny looks. Rukia just summed it up to her current position as the new girl. With a slight shudder of horror she felt like she was back high school. The funny stares, the snickers behind open books, the glares, the summations… everything was nearly exactly the same.

_It's true what they say, _Rukia thought bitterly, _high school never ends. Especially when it comes to the nerds and the jocks._

Rukia poked at her salad and wrinkled her nose. In real life, schools were not musical productions that had entire singing cafeterias, flawed characters finding the light, and young love blooming innocently at every corner. High school wasn't like that and neither was life. In reality there were cliques: the popular people, the nerds, the jocks, the freaks, the skaters, the stoners, and the overachievers. When you got out into the real world it was the exact same… only in the real world the differences were covered up by Italian loafers, Hermes scarves, and Armani suits.

It was relatively easy to do, you just had to play your parts properly and you were home free.

Rukia and Momo continued to chatter on about her possible-and-probable-impending marriage throughout lunch, Rukia ignored the stares that she received from an increasingly large percentage of the population of the cafeteria, and when the time came for them to part ways they both smiled and waved themselves back to their offices.

Rukia smiled softly as she walked back up the where she was supposed to work. Momo's big date was only two nights away. She and Toshiro weren't seeing each other tonight but she could only guess that the man was trying to put together up some nerve in order to ask her the 'big question.'

_If_ he would even ask it.

"Marriage…" Rukia breathed disgustedly.

She wouldn't be able to stand it, being shackled to another person for the entirety of your life… sharing the same bathroom, the same chairs, the same bed, and even the same diseases… it sounded revolting. Who would ever find something like that romantic? It was… repulsive. Really, aside from the tax break what was the big point? Rukia sure as hell didn't see it. Momo had once told her there was the whole 'love' thing to consider but Rukia knew that love was as flighty as it was intense.

She eased her steps momentarily and bit her bottom lip. One minute everything is fantastic, you're enjoying life, you're happy with each other, you trust one another completely, and you're absolutely positive that he's _the one_… and then the next minute…

"He's married to someone else." She muttered disgustedly under her breath. Rukia wrinkled her nose and paced slowly down the hall. At least, she told herself that it was _complete_ disgust. She couldn't lie to herself entirely though; she knew that deep down, buried beneath all the anger, repugnance, and loathing was an inkling of pain that she just couldn't seem to squash.

_Just forget it._ She thought tiredly. _I always _almost_ forget it and I always end up remembering it. How twisted is that?_

She opened the door to the office and walked inside. Her mind was uncomfortably bogged down with things she wanted to forget. She attempted to push them away—or down further into her subconscious—by focusing on her upcoming workload. She made a mental list of what needed to be done and by what time. She began to count, on her fingers, how long this entire thing would probably take. Months… even longer if Kurosaki wouldn't cooperate.

When she opened the door to her office she saw that it was as empty as it had been when she had left it. A small, victorious, smile appeared on her face and she sighed happily at her triumph for the day.

She had won against Kurosaki.

The Nerd triumphed over the Jock.

_And now the gerbil in my brain does a happy-dance,_ she thought, giggling silently.

Rukia Kuchiki, nerd and overachiever extraordinaire, sat back at her desk, and got back to work.

-!!-

Rukia didn't see him again the next day either.

The office, hell the entire floor, was already missing their orange-haired circus freak. Rukia didn't mind though. She had already adapted the office to her specific needs, she had her coffee-maker, her computer, and her chair. She was perfectly happy with her current situation. Hell, she had even brought in some classical music to play while she worked. There was nothing better than Mozart to make the work-day go by a little faster.

She didn't get visits from anyone other than Momo, who had taken it upon herself to come over to Suigetsu Inc. for lunch everyday. They had always eaten lunch together at Gotei Corp. and Momo didn't want to lose one of the only times she saw her best friend. Rukia was glad for her company; it helped to take the edge off of the stress she felt here at Suigetsu Inc. She still didn't like the stares she was constantly getting from some of the people in this place. Many of whom were convinced that she had usurped Ichigo Kurosaki's position.

And if she had to be shrewd, she'd say that most of the people eyeing her were of the feminine variety. She saw several women who would pass by the office, glance inside, continue on their way, back up, and then stare blankly at her. The first few times she just ignored them, but after it had happened a few times she began to pointedly stare back. She even went as far as to ask them if they needed anything. The replies were always brief, followed by quick conversations about Kurosaki, where he was, who she was, and if she knew when he was coming back. She gave them flat answers and they gave her curt goodbyes.

Wednesday rolled by without any incidents and by the end of it Rukia was beginning to believe that Kurosaki might completely forgo the offices at Suigetsu Inc. and just stay away from her completely.

_Wouldn't be a bad thing_, she thought halfheartedly, _although it would just mean a shit-load of extra work for me._

Hours ticked by calmly. She worked, made calls, and filed. She was back in her safe, steady, work routine. It made her happy.

Lunch with Momo was an event, even more so than usual. She continued to croon over her impending marriage. In Momo's mind it was now a certainty. She was absolutely positive that Toshiro was going to propose to her on Friday evening at the _Silken Rose_. She blathered on about what type of cake she would want to eat, what flowers she would wear in her hair, and what ring she was dreaming of.

It was nearly six o'clock when Rukia lifted her head from her computer and blinked at the door. A frantic clattering was clear from behind it.

Rukia's brow furrowed and she inclined her head to the side. She couldn't see anything but she could sure as hell hear. And there was definitely something going on out there. Her mind whirled as she wondered who would be making such a racket—and it was a racket, she could heard clunking and banging and cursing coming from outside the office—at this time in the evening. Most everyone had gone home already.

She strained her ear so she might be able to hear what was going on but didn't move an inch from her seat.

"Hold it steady!" Someone hissed. Rukia could swear that she had heard that voice somewhere before.

"I'm trying," someone else grunted, "Do you know how heavy this damn thing is?"

"Yeah, I do, I'm helping you carry it, dumb-ass."

The voices were getting closer to her position. She had already discerned one voice. She'd know that voice anywhere.

"You're only grasping it, _I'm_ the one who's carrying most of it, Kurosaki."

"You are not, quit whining like a little girl."

"I've got the biggest part, how can you—ugh—say that you're hauling the most?" The speaker paused to take a breath. "And I do not whine like a girl."

"Explain what you're doing right now then."

"Conversing."

"Whining."

"Just get the damn door open will you?"

Rukia was immobile in her seat as she listened to the continued bickering coming from the two men outside. Her ears remained attentive and her eyes moved swiftly down to the doorknob. It twisted slowly and a moment later the door was pounded open by a slender man with flaming orange hair.

Once again, his buttocks was the first thing inside of the room. She pointedly stared away while he shimmied into the space. Something very large was being supported with his arms and she hazarded a glance at what it was.

Rukia's eyes widened when she saw the object he was holding.

"My desk!" She gasped. She shot out of her seat and immediately rushed to the door. Although she remembered not to rush too much in case they saw her—_a lady does not rush for anyone_, she reminded herself properly. She grabbed the handle of the door and pulled it all the way back. Squashing herself to the side wall in the process.

More of Kurosaki's butt came through the door and Rukia pressed herself even harder against the wall in order to get away from him and his encroaching butt. It took him a good five minutes to actually wiggle her larger-than-average desk through the tiny doorframe. The twosome—Rukia still had no idea who the other man was—had to turn it to the side, push it against the door, lift it, set it right side up, and then repeat in order to get the entire thing into the office. Combined with the ongoing line of expletives that were constantly streaming from both of their lips it was both quite entertaining and quite humorous to watch.

Finally the desk was inside the room and Rukia was able to get a look at the second man. He was thin, pale, with a sharp face and wearing a pair of wire-rimmed glasses covering his eyes. His hair was a shiny shade of black—not unlike her own—and, unlike the other male in the room, he actually looked intelligent.

There was a calculating gleam in his eyes that told her that he knew the ins and outs of every aspect of this company. Something told her that he was the kind of person who would remember the names of associates and their kids, know which people to mingle with at a company party, who to invite over to a family dinner, what to talk about with different people, and what tie would go well with which suit.

Rukia smashed herself against the wall and allowed them to come in even further. The one with the black hair wheezed softly as they dragged the metallic desk closer to the center.

"W-Where do you want it?" The second one asked.

"Against the wall," Kurosaki grunted. "As far away from mine as fucking possible."

Rukia should have been offended by that statement but considering that Kurosaki and his friend had just dragged her rather large and heavy desk from one huge office building to another she guessed that she could let that statement slide…

For now.

"You really don't like this woman, do you?" The man with glasses asked.

"No, Uryu, I think she's Miss Congeniality," Kurosaki answered, his voice dripping with scathing sarcasm. "Of course I hate her. I'd like to shove her head into an oven."

A tick began to pulse in Rukia's forehead and she leaned casually against the opposite wall. She truly hoped that Kurosaki was being this candid because he didn't believe she was in the room. But then again who really knew? Maybe he was just _that_ spiteful.

"Well just keep in mind that she'll be stuck to you for the next couple of months."

"Sure… I'll love her as much as I'd love a wart on my ass."

"That is just something I didn't need to know, Kurosaki."

"Bite me Uryu."

"So you do have conversation skills," Rukia admitted dryly from her perch on the wall. "That's quite a surprise."

Both of their heads shot over to where Rukia was tilting casually against the wall. She cocked an eyebrow up and found her eyes drawn to Kurosaki's blazing gaze. She noticed briefly that the other man—Uryu… that was his name—nodded his head in recognition before turning back to the desk.

"Kurosaki," he said sternly, "Put the desk down before you resume your staring match with Ms. Kuchiki."

Kurosaki tore his eyes away from hers and—in a rather animated and pain-inducing process—kept on shoving her desk into the furthest corner of the room. Rukia smiled and tried to ignore the sinister comments he kept throwing her way. Rukia simply grinned at the pair as they worked her desk into its new corner. Now hers was at one side of the room while his was at the other, well, almost. His was pressed into the back left corner while hers rode the right wall. There was plenty of space between them—even though the added desk did make for a bit less office space—and Rukia wasn't in danger of being hit by the door.

"My, my Kurosaki," Rukia crooned insultingly. "You're just full of surprises aren't you?"

He slammed his palms down onto the table and glared down at the top. Rukia was glad he hadn't looked up at her when he did that; he would have certainly seen the tiny jolt that rushed through her spine and made her jump in slight alarm.

He raised his head and his angry, golden-amber eyes turned on her. "I'm only doing this," he spat angrily, "Because I don't ever want to come within five feet of you… _ever_."

Rukia grinned, "I'm glad we understand each other."

He nodded crisply and stood up slowly. Once again, Rukia took a moment to wonder at his height and how he carried himself. He really did look taller than he actually was.

"Look," he ground out and drew her attention back to his god-awful face. "Let's just do this thing as quickly as possible. I stay away from you, you stay away from me, we talk to each other only when necessary, and we smile for the cameras."

"What's going on is supposed to be kept a secret," she reminded him dryly.

He shook his head, "Whatever. The important thing is that we only need to _barely_ tolerate each other for a while."

Rukia's suspicion radar began to detonate within her brain. Red lights were practically flashing in front of her eyes, screaming to her that Kurosaki was up to something.

She narrowed her eyes. "Why are you being like this?" She demanded harshly. "This doesn't sound like… _you_." She spat the word like a curse.

He scowled even harder and gritted his teeth, "What? You don't trust me?" He snickered through clenched teeth.

"Che," she snorted, "Let me put it to you this way: if the office was burning down and I had a chance to save either you or my signature Chappy the Rabbit coffee mug I'd choose the mug."

"Gee don't I feel loved," he retaliated nastily. She glared at him and he moved over to his own desk, grabbed her chair, and began to push it towards her desk. "Now get your crap off my desk before I shove it off."

Rukia glared at him for a good three minutes before tromping over to his desk—thank god it had the proper pronoun attached to it now—and grabbing up her laptop and her now infamous Chappy the Rabbit themed coffee mug. She shifted them over to her own space and, after a moment, realized that there was indeed another person still hovering inside of the room.

Rukia blinked at him, "Hello." She said incredulously. She couldn't believe she hadn't realized he had been there the entire time. Kurosaki had been too busy distracting her that she had completely forgotten proper greeting etiquette. "I'm sorry, I don't think we've met." She took a few steps forward and extended her hand. "Rukia Kuchiki."

The spidery young man offered her his hand as well and a small smirk escaped his mouth. "I know who you are."

_Oh great._

"Really?" Rukia said, feigning surprise, "How so?"

"Your brother," he said simply.

_Of course._

"It's not very easy to forget the name of someone as influential as Byakuya Kuchiki." He remarked casually.

"Or as frightening," Rukia added, turning up the dial on her famous charm. Oh yes, she could lay it on thick when she wanted to. She wasn't a sweet-talking, attractive, corporate lawyer for nothing.

His mouth quirked up in a knowing smile, as though he could sense that she was sweet talking him just like any other corporate schmuck. "Uryu Ishida," he said and grasped her hand tightly and efficiently. Rukia's opinion of him immediately augmented. Anyone who had a handshake as proper as his must be good at what he does. Her mind flitted over to Kurosaki, she hadn't even touched his hand yet…

The thought was immediately banished from her mind. Never in a million years did she ever want to get _that_ close to him. Plus it would be difficult considering his new "five-foot" rule.

"I work in the foreign affairs department for Suigetsu Inc." He informed her proudly.

"It's nice to meet you," she said, and for the first time in a long time, it was actually true. He seemed like an actually decent guy. He was intelligent, well-groomed, and polite. What more could Rukia ask for in a possible ally against Kurosaki.

_Then again,_ she thought sourly, _they look like they're… friends?_ She looked from one to the other. Were they friends? Ishida looked like he could barely tolerate Kurosaki and Kurosaki looked like he was constantly annoyed by Ishida. Maybe there was a 'tolerate-and-hate' thing going on between them.

"Thank you for helping Kurosaki carry my desk into this decrepit office." She said, smiling lovingly.

"Hey!" Kurosaki barked from his seat at his own desk. He was clicking a few things around on his computer while only pretending to ignore the conversation in front of him.

"It was my pleasure and might I just say," he gave a sideways glance at Kurosaki, "You're not nearly as horrid as Ichigo said you were."

An icy glare entered her eyes and Rukia silently swore to make her new partner pay with his life. "I'm not sure I should thank you for that."

"Oh don't worry," he breezed over, "I was quite sure that he was lying anyway." He shot Kurosaki a glare and said conversationally, "And for your information, Ichigo, she does not look anything like a hag."

Rukia's good manners melted away and her skin bristled. She turned her head as far away from the orange-headed idiot as she could get and gritted her teeth together. The desk, she had to remind herself, was a type of peace offering. She just had to keep her temper in check until Ishida left.

_Then_ she could yell at him.

"Well," she answered testily, "I'm glad you don't believe things without seeing them for yourself first."

"When it comes to Ichigo," he said, "I _have_ to see it before I even consider taking his word."

Rukia smiled as they continued their mindless chatter. It was a common practice among lawyers; unless you were actually discussing something of dire importance then you stuck to the topics that were relatively safe. The weather, for instance, or coworkers—nothing to suggest gossip of course—or the job, and even the bosses, if you were bored. Rukia, of course, couldn't talk about her job at the moment—although she wouldn't put it past Kurosaki to go on and tell everyone he knew about the merger—so she stuck with the few acceptable topics that were left.

By the time Ishida pronounced that he had 'better get home' the subject of the weather had come up three times. Rukia was practically bored off of her feet just by talking to this guy. But it had to be done; unless she knew got to know him better she could not dig any deeper than the superficial 'safe zones.'

Ishida left her and her Kurosaki standing alone in their office. The tense silence between the two of them was almost overpowering. Neither one could deny the feelings of loathing that were passing between them. Dissatisfaction and unhappiness radiated around the room until Rukia felt she needed to get out before it choked her.

"How are we going to do this?" She demanded softly. The softly part was for his benefit alone, after all, he had brought up her desk. Although she would make sure that the benevolence she was bestowing upon him this evening would be gone tomorrow morning.

She turned to him and found him rifling through the files in his desk drawers. Rukia felt a hot whoosh of glee when she realized the look on his face was one of confusion and agitation.

_And so begins the battle with the filing system from hell._

"We get here at eight thirty," he began, still searching in the papers while ignoring Rukia's vocal outburst at the unthinkable time, "We work moderately hard, none of this 'must finish immediately' bullshit or making deadlines that are impossible to meet. I intend to actually have a life while doing this thing." He looked up and glared fully at her, "That means I will _not_ be coming in on Saturdays or Sundays, I will _not_ work until eight, and I will _not_ negotiate this. All your opinions are rejected."

"You can't be serious!" She exploded, throwing her hand up into the air in anger. "I want to finish _quickly_ so I can have my own office back! Why wouldn't you want that too?"

"Because I would like to keep my social life," he grumbled.

"Yeah right," she muttered under her breath, "It's more like a social _orgy_ than a social _life_."

"What did you say?"

"Nothing you would be able to comprehend."

"Well here's a novel idea, just stop talking."

Rukia rolled her eyes, "Please, are these really your only verbal skills? Basic bickering? If I wanted _that_ all I'd have to do is visit the primate section of the zoo."

He smirked and gave her the once over, "Yeah… but primates aren't half as pretty as I am."

"You'd be surprised." She grumbled dryly.

"I heard that one," he snapped.

"I made sure you did," she smiled sweetly. Her false smile darkened and she returned to the topic at hand, "Honestly Kurosaki, it would be better to burn ourselves out while doing the work now… as quickly as we can. That way when we finish we can blow off steam knowing that we will never have to set eyes on one another again."

He leaned against the desk, momentarily abandoning his file search. He shook his head like he was saying 'no' to a petulant child instead of a fully grown woman. "See, I'm more of a step by step kind of guy and you… well you just can't do all the work by yourself."

"Really?" She challenged, crossing her arms across her chest and glaring at him.

"Really." He nodded, smirking lightly. "Because the last time I checked, you and I both need to sign off on our progress reports and well, gosh darn it, I just wouldn't feel right signing off on something I didn't actually do."

His mocking words resonated in Rukia's brain and she growled.

"Come on Kuchiki," he said, his voice laced with joking hostility. "As long as we keep to our respective sides of this place I think we'll do just fine."

She paused and pursed her lips together. Kurosaki was standing at his desk, looking pompous and arrogant and smug as he rested his hip against the mahogany. Her temper flared disgustedly but she reeled it back in.

Her eyes roved over him the way an evaluator would look over an antique. She wondered bleakly if the disgusted twisting in her gut would ever go away when she looked at him. She doubted it. He was a grotesque thing… always baiting her, always making her temper rise, always aggravating her… maybe it was like crack to him. Maybe he just liked making people mad. Maybe it gave him some sort of high.

Oh but how she wished she could just _attack_ him. Rukia Kuchiki did not lack verbally or physically in any kind of capacity. If she wanted to she could stab him with words. She could assault him with an array of verbs, adjectives, and nouns so fierce that it would take him a week with an Oxford dictionary just to figure out all the ways she'd insulted him.

Not to mention she could also have him on his back in three seconds flat. She might be tiny but she could be considered a hellion in any fight. Not that she had ever been in an actual altercation that wasn't provoked for training purposes. But she was quite certain that if Kurosaki ever decided to irritate her physically she would be able to put him in his proper place.

_Irritate me physically?_ She thought awkwardly, _sounds like he would be only poking me. But even then I guess I would probably break his finger._

God she wished she could hurt him now. She wanted to wipe that punky smile off of his face with a quick upper cut to the chin. She drew in a deep breath and sighed. But no, being raised as a Kuchiki meant that she had to abide by the rules of the Kuchiki House.

The number one rule just had to be to act proper at all times, no matter what the situation. The following rules also dictated social etiquette as well as manners of speaking and posture. It was all very ridiculous but Rukia did have to admit… all those Kuchiki Rules did help her get to where she was now.

_That and my brain._ She reminded herself.

"Alright Kurosaki," she said to him in a firm voice. "I'll agree… but if you violate any of these terms _I_ will be the one setting down the rules. Understand?" Her eyes became as hard as diamonds. "And, in case you're wondering, by _violate_ I mean being more than five minutes late."

"I _really_ don't like you."

"Dually noted."

He pursed his lips together and sent her a now-famous glare. "Fine."

Rukia nodded curtly and turned away from him. She gathered her things and began tugging on her coat. She would just go home; it was nearly six anyway.

His voice stopped her before she could get out of the door.

"Yes?" She answered curtly.

His eyes were puzzles once again. He looked down at the files in his desk and then glanced back up at her. "What the hell did you do to all of my files?"

The corner of her mouth quirked up, "You want to know?"

His mouth pulled itself into a tight line. "_Obviously_." He stressed.

She turned her nose up at him and cocked an eyebrow, "Then come in tomorrow at eight thirty and I'll tell you."

With that said, Rukia Kuchiki turned on her heel and exited the office. She passed the cleaning crew and steadily walked to the elevator. She couldn't help thinking that this exit was much more dignified than the one she had experienced on Monday.

**(A/N: ****So, once again, enjoy and please REVIEW, REVIEW, REVIEW!!**

**Remember, if you don't like my story then it wasn't written for you.**

**Tituba.)**


	9. Chapter 8

**Disclaimer: I do not own Bleach or any Bleach affiliates.**

_**Odalisque**_

**Chapter 8**

"My God," that vile woman mocked as he entered the office, "You're actually here."

"You don't ever stop talking," Ichigo muttered and strode over to his desk. He slammed his things onto the surface and gulped down the coffee in his hand. He fought the urge to crush the half-full paper cup between his fingers. "Do you?"

"Not if I have something to say." She answered back smartly.

Ichigo immediately dug into his drawer and pulled out an aspirin. This woman was so fucking annoying, he didn't know how he was going to make it through the day without a horse tranquilizer.

For her.

She was hovering lightly in her chair. His amber eyes shot over to her little coffee machine near the side of the room and frowned. Good God, she must have had the entire pot. There were only grinds left in the bottom and it was at _least_ a six cup maker. No wonder the woman was so short. She must have been hooked on coffee by the age of three.

He moved his gaze up to what he could see of her body. She was dressed basically the same. Black jacket, matching black pencil skirt—he could only assume—her jet black hair was tied into a stiff pony tail, her sensible-yet-stylish shoes peeked out of the bottom of the desk—they were also black—and underneath her jacket was a light blue blouse that had a line of tiny pearl buttons going down the middle.

He tossed the aspirin back into the drawer and rolled his eyes. How boring could this person dress?

"Okay," he said stonily, turning to stare into her freakishly-violet sapphire eyes, "Are you going to tell me or not?"

_Not the best way to phrase that, Ichigo,_ he thought sourly, _if you give her an actual choice she might choose the one you didn't want._

"The filing system?" She asked after a moment's thought. He could tell that she was rather hyperactive this morning. God, having her be all jumpy was irritating him. Maybe he could just hide that ridiculous mug of hers and be done with it. He doubted it would stop her from drinking coffee though. She'd probably just pour it directly into her mouth. "You mean you actually remembered?"

He scowled bitterly at her, "Of course; despite what you might think, I do have a brain. My brain remembers things. My brain was what got me through law school and got me this job."

"Oh I know you have a brain," she answered breezily, "I just assumed that it was hidden somewhere behind all of your less amiable attributes."

"Are you ever going to stop making assumptions on my character anytime soon?" He demanded.

"Probably not," she answered just as casually as before. She stood up from her desk and indicated to the coffee pot. "I'm going to make some more, will you be needing any?"

He eyed her skeptically and crossed his arms over his chest. "How many cups have you had?"

She turned her nose up at him and grabbed the grinds. "I thought it would be best if I fortified myself for this particular morning."

"You still didn't answer my question," he returned sharply.

She waved a hand dismissively and began making another pot. "I don't know how many I've had, I don't count."

"You're going to wear out your stomach lining with all that." He snickered, "Not to mention coffee stunts your growth. But I guess you don't mind being short."

Her back stiffened and Ichigo grinned swiftly. It was _fun_ to aggravate this woman. He had already pegged her as the type of person who would react in a very predictable manner whenever she was provoked. So far she had proved his theory correct. She was always ready to fight, no matter what the battle.

Inwardly, he rolled his eyes. She was going to have a tough time working with him if she remained this combative. Because, well… Ichigo _always_ won.

If she wanted to keep on insulting him, offending him, and throwing countless slights at him then he would just reciprocate with digs he knew would burn her. And he knew that she wouldn't be ready for it because she probably hadn't ever met anyone who would battle her on that front.

_Let me guess,_ he thought, _she's always used to people bending over backwards to do what she tells them to do, she's never without the total command of a room, and, of course, she's going to have ulcers by the age of thirty._

She turned back to him and he had to hide a small smile at her anger. That was another thing; she just got riled up so easily. It was really quite fun.

"There are two things that I will not tolerate from you." She said in a quietly dangerous voice. Ichigo's amusement only grew as she took a few steps towards him. That wasn't a very smart move for her considering that she only came up to his collarbone. The whole nose-to-nose and toe-to-toe thing wouldn't really work on him. He would just find it comical.

She held up one of her hands and stuck out her pointer finger. Ichigo was reminded of his second grade teacher who would always shake that finger at him whenever he did anything bad.

Her voice was cutting as she continued. "Don't ever make any comments on my gender—"

"You're a girl." He interrupted with a wicked grin.

"Woman," she spat, "I am a _woman_ you Neanderthal, not a _girl_." She squared her shoulders and began again. "The second thing is my height. While I acknowledge that I am shorter than the average person I will not sustain any insults against it." She narrowed her eyes. "Got it?"

Ichigo's grin became feral, "Whatever you say midget."

She spun on her heel and stomped over to her own desk. "I loathe you." She mentioned conversationally.

"I know you do," he sighed, "But we weren't hired to like each other, now were we?"

She turned to him and glared. Ichigo found that glaring like that only stunted her best feature. Her eyes were narrowed and hard whenever she glared like that. He liked it better when her face was relaxed and not so hostile; her eyes weren't so fantastically demonic that way.

"That might be the first reasonable thing you've said since I've known you." She said bitterly.

"Glad you agree," he said and moved to the back of his desk. "So, why don't you make that pot of coffee and we'll get started."

Rukia turned on him and snapped, "Don't assume that I'll make the coffee! I'm not a slave!"

If Ichigo would have permitted his jaw to drop it would be on the floor. "But you just said you'd make some!"

"Yes but did I say I'd make it for you too?"

"You hinted at it, yes."

"Kurosaki, think about it," she said, "If someone were to pass by this door and hear you ordering me to make coffee what message do you think that would send?"

_Oh._

"That you were making coffee," Ichigo answered nastily, even though he knew what she was hinting at.

"You know what I mean." She sat behind her own desk and fiddled with her laptop computer. "I intend to make my mark here, no matter what. People won't see me and immediately assume that I'm your lackey. They'll know that I'm here as a proficient and important employee and that I mean business." She cocked an eyebrow at him and glowered. "Are we clear?"

"Why do you say things like that?" Ichigo demanded, immediately mocking her. His temper was rising just listening to her prattle on about all this crap about being his lackey and whatnot. This tiny woman was stuffed with so much pride that he was surprised she hadn't split open at the seams. It wasn't the good kind of pride either. It was the kind of pride that made everyone think you were an ass. "You always have to ask if you're clear, if everyone has heard you, if we understand," he continued nastily and shook his head. "_Everyone_ hears you. You're man-voice carries on until it's imprinted into every brain within earshot."

He looked up and saw her face was red with rage. But he wasn't finished. "So why don't you just _assume_ that I'm intelligent enough to understand what you're saying. And don't bother to finish each sentence with another 'are we clear' because I swear if you do I'll order you to make coffee every morning."

The ticking clock was the only thing that could be heard in the deafening silence between them. Ichigo's hot eyes were pinned on her icy ones. The combination resulted in a glaring match that could have rivaled the one they had on Tuesday. Rukia broke the eye contact first. She shook her head slowly and typed her password into the computer. Ichigo glowered in triumph and loaded his own programs.

"You're going to be sorry one day, Kurosaki," she said softly. There was no hint of immediate threat in her tone. It was just… quiet and _there. _Her liquid eyes turned to him and she shook her head slowly. "I'm sure of it."

Ichigo snorted softly and rolled his eyes. "Yeah… I'll remember that."

What he didn't know was that she would turn out to be right.

-!!-

"I'm so nervous."

Rukia, since this was the fourth time that Momo had blurted out this particular phrase, gritted her teeth together and pressed her fingertips to her temples.

"You'll be fine," she said tersely. "Just… you just need to relax."

"But Rukia," Momo cried, she pushed her tuna sandwich around her plate and bit her bottom lip. She seemed like she was ready to burst into tears. "What if he doesn't ask me? What if I've just been _thinking _he's going to ask me but in reality he's _not_?" She gasped loudly and horridly and Rukia searched in her bag for another aspirin. "What if he gives me a _friendship ring_?"

She dove across the table and trapped Rukia's wrist in a death grip. She yelped but her frantic friend didn't seem to care. "Rukia," she wailed. "What if he _doesn't_ ask?"

"Momo," she yelped, nearly exasperated in all of her patience, "He _is_ going to propose to you, he will _not_ give you just a friendship ring, you _will_ accept, and you _will_ live happily ever after!" She yanked her wrist away from Momo, who continued to clutch at any part of Rukia's body that was within her reach. It was as though Rukia was the anchor keeping Momo from the verge of hysteria. She drew in a couple deep breaths and prayed fervently that Toshiro was indeed going to propose. If it was anything other than a proposal then Momo would probably keel over—dead—at the table.

_At least she'll look good, _Rukia thought awkwardly, _if she ends up wearing the outfit we decided on anyway._

"Listen," Rukia murmured, hoping to soothe Momo's nerves so she would stop clawing at her arm. The poor girl looked like she was about to have a nervous breakdown. "I did a little research on the _Silken Rose_ and according to one website, sixty seven percent of women who go there end up being proposed to by their significant other."

Momo's lip stopped trembling and her eyes blinked up at Rukia hopefully. She smiled sympathetically and murmured, "And the other thirty three percent are couples celebrating anniversaries or elderly people coming to reminisce about when they were younger."

Momo sniffled hopefully, tears glistened around the edges of her eyes and she wiped them away, amazingly without disrupting her mascara. "Really?" She whispered.

_No I made it up._

"Of course," she soothed. "I got it from a very reputable site. Don't worry, okay?"

Momo sniffled again and nodded woozily. Rukia smiled at her overly-excitable friend and wondered if she was going to have to drug her before the dinner. Knowing Toshiro, he would probably do something very romantic, like stuff the ring into her cheesecake or put it in her champagne glass. But then again, knowing Momo… she'd be so nervous throughout the entire meal that she wouldn't be able to eat a bite or make proper conversation. Or maybe it would be just the opposite, maybe Momo would be so nervous that she'd scarf down everything in site and accidentally swallow the ring, choke on it, and die?

_Don't even go there Rukia,_ she told herself bitterly, _it's utterly ridiculous._

But then another thought flashed through her mind. What if Momo was so panicked that she didn't think she could go to the dinner alone? _I wonder if I'll be begged to come along._ Rukia thought in horror. Momo, if she was truly and desperately afraid, would indeed bring up the idea.

_I just need to keep her calm then,_ Rukia reasoned.

"Okay," Momo said, interrupting Rukia's thoughts. She looked over at her friend and noticed that the stressed young woman was starting to do yoga breathing exercises. "Just… I just need to think about something else." She turned her gray eyes onto Rukia and pouted. "I wish you didn't have to work here."

"I know," Rukia muttered, completely agreeing with that statement.

"With you not there I actually have to buy my own coffee," Momo complained, "And I can't talk to you whenever I feel like it and all of the people who call asking for you get really mad when I tell them you don't work at this building anymore." She bit into her tuna and winced, "I don't like getting yelled at."

"I'm sorry Momo," Rukia said, even though she didn't really feel any sort of remorse, "I'll have a new number soon, I promise."

"Good," Momo sighed and sipped her water, "How's Ichigo Kurosaki doing?"

"Or as I like to refer to him," Rukia snarled, her mood instantly souring even more. "Lucifer."

"Yikes."

"He's horrid," she spat, recalling this morning's incident. "Calls me short, orders me to make him coffee, and even mocks me for saying 'are we clear' or 'understand' at the end of every sentence."

Momo's brow crinkled and she shrugged her shoulders, "Huh, you do tend to do that, don't you?"

"Don't even start with me Momo," Rukia threatened, "Or I'll bring up you-know-what."

"Fine," she said, "Well, have you two done any work? Even though you won't tell me what it is you're working on." She glared at Rukia and leaned forward. Rukia could only assume that she was trying to look a bit more threatening. She rolled her eyes inwardly and knew that Momo couldn't look threatening even if she had a sword in her hands.

"Sorry Momo," she confessed, "I've been sworn to secrecy, even Kurosaki can't tell anyone."

"Fine," she relented. "But I'll find out eventually, right?"

"Trust me," Rukia muttered, "It'll be painfully obvious when I'm finished with the job."

"Alright, but tell me, haven't you guys gotten any work done?"

Rukia pursed her lips together and nodded, "We have, but not a lot. It's going to take a while." Her nose wrinkled and she picked at her own lunch. "He said that he won't come in before eight thirty, he won't stay late, and he won't work weekends."

"Shocker."

"I thought he was being an ignoramus," Rukia prattled on, choosing to ignore Momo's sarcastic remark. "I mean, if neither of us wants to be in each other's presence very long why wouldn't we just work as hard as we can to finish this job quickly?"

"Because, Sweetie," Momo brought her hands out and placed them overtop of Rukia's. Her fingers patted Rukia's skin softly and she smiled sympathetically. "Different people… well, they have different lives, and not all of them like to work as much as you do."

Rukia glumly drew her hands away, "You get points for saying that delicately Momo," she muttered, "_He_ didn't."

"I'm sure he didn't mean to be so crass."

"Now you're just being _too_ nice."

"I know, but you need it."

Rukia frowned at her food and sighed. "I'm a big girl Momo, people don't have to be nice to me, they just need to respect me."

"Did you ever think that maybe that's it?" Momo said softly, her eyes glued onto her limp tuna sandwich. "Maybe you spend so much time demanding people's respect that you kind of bypass being nice."

Rukia didn't snap back at her friend. She just sat back in her plastic seat, crossed her arms over her chest, and stared blankly up at the light fixtures. Momo had closed her mouth and was back to toying with her sandwich. Rukia didn't blame her; she made sure that her posture kept her from saying anything else.

Momo was right though. As much as she hated to admit it, she was right about most everything when it came to judgments about Rukia's character or personality. All of her comments were insightful and sharp as tacks. It made Rukia wonder if Momo would have been more suited for a PhD in psychology instead of a Masters in business.

She had been Momo's friend long enough for her to know all the tricks Rukia used. Fighting without being provoked was a popular one, verbally abusing those who would misuse their power was another, and keeping everyone at arms length was also employed constantly. Momo once told Rukia that these were all defense mechanisms she used to keep herself safe.

"_You've never really been close to anyone other than me."_

"_That's not true…"_

"_Well, except him, but he doesn't count."_

"_Momo…"_

"_Rukia, you can't be afraid that people are going to hurt you. Not everyone is like him. People don't hurt other people for the fun of it—well, okay, psychos do—but most of the time it's just by mistake."_

"_I don't like being hurt."_

"_No one does… but if you don't put yourself out there to accept the hurt then you're never going to really be able to experience the good stuff either. It's like losing your virginity, it hurts a lot at first but you have to stick it out in order to get the whole experience."_

Rukia could remember every instant about that conversation. It had been initiated because she had seen a man she had gone out with a few times on the metro with another woman. She told Momo about it and when Rukia didn't become incensed or teary-eyed, Momo demanded to know why. Rukia had simply shrugged and said, "I didn't like him all that much in the first place."

Momo accused her of not 'letting anyone in' and she had been right. Rukia didn't let people in for the simple reason that she didn't want them there. She hated having to worry about others or having others rely on her. Taking care of herself was her top priority. She didn't want others to know everything about her. She didn't want them to expect things from her. She just wanted to be left alone. She wanted to be Rukia Kuchiki, no one more and no one less.

She guessed that that was why she was not too keen in the dating world. She just couldn't get past those lawyerly pleasantries. She couldn't go deeper than that… and she had a feeling that she didn't even want to. If she never moved past the weather then she never had to get to know them, to start caring, and to open up about herself. She was safer this way. No one could dispute that.

Rukia lowered her gaze back to Momo and smiled softly. Her friend was looking at her warily, as if wondering whether or not she should speak.

"Don't worry about it Momo," she said calmly. "Maybe I'll try to work on that whole respect and being nice thing… at least with him."

Momo's eyes brightened immediately. Rukia rarely took advice from anyone and seeing as how she was actually listening to something that Momo had said made the moment even more special.

"Alright," she chirped happily. They both stood and grabbed the trash from their lunch. "I'll just go back, don't forget to email me that new extension."

"I won't," Rukia answered, still mulling over what Momo had told her.

They said their goodbyes and went in their separate directions. Rukia to the elevators and Momo to the doors.

She stepped inside and pressed the appropriate button. The doors were almost closed when she heard a shout and her hand shot out to grab them before they could shut.

She immediately wished she hadn't.

"Thank you," Orihime Inoue said, slightly out of breath as she stepped inside.

"No problem," Rukia answered stiffly. Her hand released the metallic doors and she stood to the side, listening intently to the standard music resonating in the elevator. The doors began to slide shut once again.

"Hold the elevator!"

Rukia's thumb came out and jammed the button to close the door.

"Mr. Kurosaki!" Inoue cried, her mood seemingly lifted instantaneously. She pressed her palm against the metal and held the doors back for him. Rukia sullenly turned and stared pointedly up at the ceiling.

"Inoue," he said in greeting, he turned towards Rukia and his scowl deepened just a bit. "Kuchiki."

"Kurosaki," she grunted.

Rukia vaguely recognized the song playing as the doors finally closed and the elevator began to move. Her eyes found the weight capacity certificate and she began reading it.

An orange head in her peripheral vision shifted.

"Are you having a good day, Mr. Kurosaki?"

"Oh… yeah, it's been fine."

Rukia's ears perked up; if she didn't know any better, she'd say that he sounded a bit wary. She enjoyed it.

"Are you and Ms. Kuchiki working well together?"

"Ah, yeah, I guess so."

Rukia felt his eyes search the elevator and land on her. A small smile formed in the pit of her stomach but she didn't let it show on her face. If he wanted her to talk in order to fill the silence, or perhaps, to distract Inoue, she wasn't going to do it. Even though she hated people talking about her like she wasn't in the room she wasn't going to let it get to her. It was about time she took Momo's advice to heart… or, maybe _some_ of her advice.

"I've heard that Mr. Aizen is coming back early from his trip to the capital." Inoue informed them. "I wonder if he'll stop by our offices."

"I don't know." Was Ichigo's strained answer.

The floors passed by exceedingly slow. Rukia had already memorized the weight capacity certificate and was now counting the dots on the ceiling.

"How's your family?"

Rukia glanced down at him. This would be interesting.

"They're good, my sisters are in college… and my father is still crazy."

"I remember meeting them at the company picnic," Inoue chuckled at the memory, "Your father was such a hoot." Another reminiscence shot across her mind and she let out a high, girly, laugh.

Rukia flinched.

The doors to the elevator opened and Kurosaki was the first one out of them. Inoue followed close behind and Rukia was the last to leave. She ambled slowly in the hall and nodded to a few people as she passed. She watched the twin heads of orange practically sprint down the corridor. She snickered inwardly as she read Kurosaki's body language. He most certainly did _not_ want to be around Inoue, even if it was only for a few moments. She would even go as far as to say that if he had known Inoue was in the elevator he would have waited for the next one. Rukia being in there was just a small bonus.

She trolled happily into her office. She didn't know why, but she was in a much better mood than the one she had been in this morning. Maybe it was just seeing Kurosaki squirm in the presence of Orihime Inoue, maybe it was talking with Momo, or maybe it was just because the lunch she had today hadn't been half-bad, but she felt okay.

Maybe she'd go for a victory run around the park tonight.

-!!-

Ichigo looked up as Rukia Kuchiki walked back into the room.

"Have a nice lunch?" He demanded venomously.

She tilted her head to the side and pressed a finger to her chin. She tapped it a few times, which he found utterly infuriating, and sighed, "You know, I actually did. I opted for a fiesta salad today instead of Caesar, which is what I usually get, and it was very good. Thanks for asking."

"You're a bitch, you know that?" He hissed.

"I've been told." She sighed nonchalantly.

Ichigo's eyes widened and his jaw went a bit slack. What the hell was going on?

This morning she had been all spit and hellfire. She had looked like she was going to claw his eyes out at any moment just because he might have looked at her the wrong way. Well, at least, that's what she had looked like after he had commented on her height. Now, after only a few hours of stony, working, silence and one lunch hour she was airy and calm. She hadn't even put up a fight when he called her a bitch.

_What is _up_ with this woman?_ He thought angrily, fighting the urge to scratch the top of his head. She was… _confusing_.

"You could have said something in that elevator." He grumbled and plopped back into his chair.

"Could have," she sighed, "But didn't. Hindsight is twenty twenty isn't it? Besides, it was amusing to watch you squirm."

He glared at her and shook his head. He would have to buy her a mood ring or something just so he could separate those swings of her.

"Please don't tell me that you've got something going with Inoue," she said after a moment.

"None of your business." He snapped.

His answer was far too quick and her wickedly spreading grin told him just that. "Oh, _I_ see. It's not like I didn't expect it. I mean, with your history…"

Ichigo's eyes narrowed and his temper rose, "My _history_? What exactly do you mean by that?"

"What do you think I mean by it?" She asked coyly.

He glared and she shrugged.

"I mean, come on, you couldn't have expected me _not_ to hear things," she rolled her eyes and continued, "I'm just surprised I didn't figure it out sooner."

Ichigo's jaw clenched.

"Although I'm not sure why you'd actually want to sleep with someone you see everyday. Especially her, she seems…" Rukia looked towards the door and tilted her head to the side. "Persistent."

"Persistent isn't even half of it." Ichigo muttered but then returned to glaring at her, "But you're wrong about sleeping with her. I didn't."

"Really?" Rukia asked. She was sitting at her desk, her elbows propped on the metallic edged top. She laced her fingers together and rested her chin on top of them. "Then what _did_ you do?"

"It's a long story," he replied shortly, even though he wasn't even sure why he was telling her this. He hadn't told anyone other than Uryu and that hadn't even been a good idea.

Still… she was just sitting there with her intense liquid eyes trained on him, listening attentively. He kind of liked it. The only other person who would ever listen with that type of vigilance was probably his sister, Yuzu, and maybe his father… when he wasn't acting like he belonged in an insane asylum. Plus, if her tone was any indication, it sounded like she could also commiserate over his current predicament. She didn't seem like she was a very big of a fan of _Ms._ Inoue either.

"Christmas Party," he blurted out darkly, half surprised by his own tiny confession. "I had one too many jell-o shots and we ended up making out." He leaned back in his chair and pressed a hand to his frowning eyes. "She's been kind of… _persistent_, as you put it, ever since then."

She chuckled lightly and Ichigo tore his hand away from his eyes. His amber gaze blazed over at her and she held up her hands in mocking defense. Ichigo immediately regretted ever telling her that. She would never let him live it down.

How could he forget? This was the evil woman who hated his guts. She was mean and she was vile and she had even told him once that if the building were on fire she would rather save her Chappy the Rabbit mug instead of him!

Ichigo could have slapped himself. He couldn't believe he had even opened up to this witch. Even though, frankly, this wasn't the worst of his endeavors he could have told her about. When he thought of them… no, it definitely wasn't the worst.

"No wonder." Was all she said.

Ichigo was immediately on the defense, ready for a fight; if he were a dog he would have been back on his haunches, hackles raised, and growling at her like he was going to attack her throat.

She frowned lightly and shrugged, "When I was in here the first time she acted like I was encroaching upon her territory."

Ichigo's frown was lifted from his face and his mind was sent reeling.

He had expected some sort of attack on his character, a joke about his way of life, or even a remark about his hair—he just didn't know with this woman—but _that_ was all he got? A little remark that wasn't threatening at all? A statement proclaiming that she actually _agreed_ with him.

_Wait a sec,_ he thought slowly, _was I _looking_ for a fight?_

No, he couldn't have been looking for a fight with this woman. It just wasn't his way; he didn't look for fights, they just seemed to come to him. It had been that way all throughout his time in high school, college, and the 'real world.' During high school he had to fight to keep his reputation. He also had to fight because people singled him out for his strangely colored hair. In college he had to fight for the top spots in his class, and now… well, now he had to fight to be the best.

Which basically meant that there wasn't much fighting to do because, well… he _was_ the best.

Even if Rukia Kuchiki didn't know it yet.

"Oh," he said, his voice surprising soft. "Yeah, I guess I can see her doing that."

Then Rukia Kuchiki did something he hadn't seen her do yet. Hell, he had even doubted she _could_ do it. Her face was usually either stoic and cold or violent and feral. He hadn't seen her look happy or kind—except when she drank coffee, but that's a different kind of happy—and he had even half doubted that, given who she was raised by, she could show any type of real emotion.

She smiled.

She did and it was… nice. Her entire face softened and her eyes shined with glee and something else, something close to mischief. It surprised him.

_She_ surprised him.

"Well," she said, "I'm glad we agree on something."

Ichigo, still flabbergasted, shook his head and snorted. He couldn't believe that Orihime Inoue could be the one person who would be able to break down a few barriers in between. He shrugged, he guessed that nothing could bring two people together like a common enemy.

-!!-

The lights in the room were eagerly awaiting the switch that would allow them to shine with fluorescence inside of the dimness. Yet no one touched the tiny plastic switches. The room remained completely dark. It was quiet too. Nothing stirred saved the glittering fish in the rectangular aquarium. Those watery ballerinas twirled in their glass cage, blissfully unaware of the darkness pressing up against them.

The stars outside the room twinkled softly. Most were obscured by the lights of the city and the others by random clouds. However, the ones that struggled through these obstructions were brilliant. Like diamonds crusted onto a midnight background.

The door opened slowly and a few fish peeked out at the man entering the room. In the darkness the only discernable feature was his height. He loomed over everything in the room.

He strode forward until his feet were only inches away from a large, oak, desk. His knees brushed the wood but he made no move to step away.

"You called?" His voice was deep and trenchant.

"I did," said the second man. He swirled around in his chair. He was completely hidden in black shadows. "I need something done."

"Some_thing_," the first man snorted, "I thought we had gotten past this the first couple of times."

"Fine then," he replied, "I need someone… dealt with." He dug into a drawer in his desk and snapped it open. The wood rubbed against itself and the scratchy friction only caused the silence in the room to become more apparent.

The man at the desk pulled out a manila folder. He tossed it on the desk and his associate picked it up with hands covered in latex.

The man behind the desk noticed and grinned nastily, "I thought we had gotten past that the first couple of times."

The associate didn't stop as he opened the folder and drew out a series of photographs. "It's a business practice," he murmured casually, his voice low and thick. He studied the picture for a moment and whistled low in his throat. He glanced at the man behind the desk and said, "Are you sure? This could have repercussions."

A twinkle was in his eye as he said, "Those are what I'm looking forward to."

There was a pause between them. "Pretty thing."

"Yes."

"Are you sure?"

"Have I ever been unsure?"

He handed the photos back to the man behind the desk and nodded. "I understand."

Another drawer was slid open. This time the man drew out a lighter. He held the photos in his hand and flicked the lighter in the other. The flame danced wildly for a moment before they latched onto the piece of paper. It slowly climbed, charring the image and dropping its ashy remnants onto the top of the desk. When it was completely obliterated the man brushed the tiny gray flicks into his palm. He clenched his fist and then dumped the ashes into the waste bin by his side.

The second man, who had been watching the entire incident, looked back up at his contractor. "What's my timeframe?"

"I want it finished by the end of summer."

"That's only a few weeks away."

"I'm sure you can manage."

"How much will I be paid?"

"Double what you normally get."

"Wonderful."

The silence dropped onto their shoulders once again. The men stared each other for a few moments before the man sitting behind the desk cleared his throat and said softly, "This conversation never happened."

"What conversation?" The second man said. He flashed a stunning grin before nodding once, turning on his heel, and exiting the room.

The man behind the desk watched him leave. The door clicked softly and silence once again proceeded to conquer the entire office. He stayed still and quiet for a full minute before turning around in his chair. It seemed he was staring at the few stars brave enough to peek through the lights and the clouds. He rested his chin on his hands and gazed out the window. He looked peaceful and contemplative.

In the corner of the room, the fish swam mindlessly.

**(A/N: So now things get a bit more interesting… cue evil laughter.**

**REVIEW, REVIEW, and REVIEW!**

**Remember, if you don't like my story then it wasn't written for you.**

**Tituba.)**


	10. Chapter 9

**Disclaimer: I do not own Bleach or any Bleach affiliates.**

_**Odalisque**_

**Chapter 9**

"Are you sure you're ready?" Rukia asked for the thirteenth time.

Momo, whose face was a tad bit green, nodded her head.

Rukia's eyes narrowed and she thumped both hands onto Momo's shoulders. Her face was now a sickening shade of puce. It stood out horribly against her pink lipstick and her finely muted eye shadow. Rukia shook her friend violently until Momo brought her frightened eyes up to hers.

"Momo," Sergeant Rukia Kuchiki began, her voice was stern and sturdy, just what her friend needed right now. "Do you love Toshiro?" She made sure to enunciate each word until the question was rammed into Momo's brain.

She nodded shakily.

"Vocalize." Rukia demanded.

"Y-Yes," she squeaked.

"Louder!"

Momo bit her bottom lip and her face became so earnest and sweet that Rukia almost had the desire to pinch her cheek. She balled her hands into tiny fists of determination and straightened her spine until she stood more than a few inches taller than Rukia.

"I love Toshiro Hitsugaya!" She cried to the otherwise empty room. "I love him! I do!"

She gasped hard and clapped her hands over her mouth. Her eyes widened to the size of dinner plates. She looked horrified.

"What?" Rukia demanded, not liking being left out of the loop, "What is it? What's wrong?"

Momo shook her head back and forth, her hair, which was down in wavy torrents for tonight, swished around her shoulders. She pried her hands away from her mouth and pressed them to her throbbing heart underneath her dress. She drew in frantic, steadying breaths, and turned to Rukia. Suddenly, a huge grin appeared on her face, Rukia was shocked, Momo was a very happy person normally but now… God, since when did she have that many teeth?

"Momo…?" She began slowly, not sure if she should be happy or afraid.

"Rukia," she breathed, that fantastically large smile still plastered on her face, she lurched forward and grabbed Rukia's small hands. She began to laugh wildly while jumping up and down until Rukia was sure that looking at her friend would make her stomach flip dangerously. "Rukia!" She shouted, "I said 'I do!'" She let out a wild laugh and released Rukia. She began to twirl around the room in her heels, "I said 'I do!' I said it! I said it!"

Rukia's face immediately melted into a knowing smile. She grinned as she watched her friend prance around her living room in ecstasy, screaming 'I do!' at the top of her lungs.

Momo had rushed over Rukia's—thirty minutes before Toshiro was supposed to pick her up—in panicked desperation. She was, once again, freaking out about the possible proposal tonight. Rukia had to be the one to call Toshiro and ask him to come over to her apartment in order to pick up Momo. She made up some story about borrowing one of Momo's favorite rosy-peach lipsticks and her needing to have it for tonight. Now he was due in only about ten minutes.

Rukia's grin widened as Momo began singing the words 'I do.' She leapt into the air and gracefully swirled again and again. Rukia could guess that Momo was already picturing herself dancing at her wedding.

_She's so happy_, she thought contentedly.

"Rukia!" She cried as she skipped over to the stoic woman in the corner of the room, "Oh Rukia, thank you! It's so easy now! I love him, I do! It's so fantastic, oh, I do I do I do I do I _do_!" She gasped and laughed.

Rukia laughed with her for what seemed like ages. Momo was like that. Whenever she was happy, everyone was happy with her. She just had that kind of magnetic personality. Hell, it was that happiness and that personality which had helped Rukia through some of her darkest times…

_Not now,_ she told herself, _don't even think about it. This is Momo's time._

"Come on," she chuckled, "Your future husband is going to be here in about five minutes."

Momo leapt into the bathroom to reapply her lipstick and her makeup. She came out within a minute. She looked flawless and gorgeous. Her cheeks were no longer pale with fear, her eyes were no longer filled with uncertainty, and her arms were no longer clutching her nervous stomach. Her face was rosy and beautiful, her eyes were excited and confident, and her stomach was tight with insanely fluttering butterflies.

"I'm ready," she said with finality.

Rukia nodded in approval, "Good. Now we just have to wait for—"

She was interrupted by a quick knock on the door. Rukia turned and glanced at it with a small smile. She peeked at Momo and was actually surprised to see that she had not returned to her nervous-breakdown state and appearance. "Are you ready?" She asked her quietly.

Momo's confident nod was enough to send Rukia quickly across the room. She grasped the doorknob and opened it slowly.

Toshiro Hitsugaya, the love of Momo's life, was waiting just on the other side of the threshold. He was dressed in a suit with a cool blue tie set in the center to complement his icy eyes. His face was young and earnest but there was so much intelligence hidden in the depths of his gaze that Rukia had to smile. Toshiro was a year younger than Momo—and Rukia—yet he was in a position in the Gotei Corp. that was higher than both of them. Toshiro was born a prodigy; he had an IQ that practically blew up those charts with which they evaluated him. He had finished college and graduate school and had acquired an additional PhD by the age of twenty. Now he worked as an up-and-coming CEO for Gotei Corp.

"Hello Toshiro," Rukia said, smiling. Her eyes trailed up from his face and eyes to the shock of white hair that graced the top of his head. Rukia had always teased him that it was fitting that an Einstein such as he would have the same hairstyle. He hadn't taken too kindly to that, but then again, it was, in a roundabout way, a kind of compliment.

"Hello Rukia," he said anxiously, he stood on his tiptoes and glanced over Rukia's shoulder. "Is Momo ready?" His voice was just squeaky enough to convince Rukia that he was nervous as hell.

Rukia's grin was slick and she inched one eyebrow up, "Yes she is." She paused and held the door back a bit. "Are you?"

Toshiro passed her a glance that was a mix of fear and happiness. Rukia returned it with her own knowing smile. He nodded solidly and swallowed hard, "Yes, I'm… _ready_."

"Good," Rukia said, she stepped aside and opened the door even wider. "Here she is."

The look on Toshiro's face when he saw Momo Hinamori made Rukia wish she had a camera in her hands. His eyes widened, his jaw dropped open slightly, and a torrential blush colored his entire face, all the way to the roots of his hair, the back of his neck, and the tips of his ears. Rukia's eyes slipped down to his hands and she noticed that one of them was fisted inside of his jacket, as if he was holding something tightly inside of his fingers. Rukia felt a bubble of happiness form inside of her stomach. Her best friend was getting engaged tonight.

She was happy for her.

_I wonder if she'll make me wear a hideous bridesmaids dress._ She mused lightly.

"Hi Shiro," Momo whispered softly, abridging her boyfriend's given name into the cute pet name she had given him.

"Momo…" he breathed, sucking air into his lungs faster and faster until Rukia wondered if she needed to get him a brown paper bag. "You look… f-fan-tastic." His voice squeaked at the end and he reached up to loosen his tie from his fanatically red neck.

"Thanks," she murmured shyly. She even toed the ground with her stiletto heel like a third grade schoolgirl.

They must have stood there for at least three full minutes before Rukia threw her hands in the air, pushed Momo towards Toshiro, and told them they'd miss their reservations if they didn't get moving soon. The two left her apartment hand in hand, shyly glancing at each other and then away. Rukia felt like she was watching them go off on their first date… again.

Rukia could remember that night clearly as well. Momo had been so nervous about going out with someone she might actually become _serious_ with that she had darted over to Rukia's house, begged for tips that would make her seem smart and serious, and had made Rukia call Toshiro to tell him of her sudden change-of-address.

The twosome had acted just as awkward then as they did now. It was cute… kind of. At least, it had been cute a few months ago, now it was just kind of sickening.

Rukia shut the door when she heard the sound of the elevator ding softly. A smile still lingered on her face as she moved to the kitchen and pulled out a bottle of wine. She poured herself a small glass and thought of the excited call she would get later tonight.

Momo would be in tears, of course. She would call Rukia and sob into the phone about how happy she was. She would promise to come over first thing in the morning and show her the gorgeous ring—Rukia was sure that Toshiro had good taste, if his own clothing choices were any indication—then she would begin to immediately talk about the wedding she would plan.

_Yes…_ Rukia thought slowly. She sipped her drink slowly and let the fruity taste wash around in her mouth before she swallowed. _The wedding._

Momo would probably insist on a winter wedding. She wouldn't care if it was too cold. Winter was Toshiro's favorite time of year and she would want to make him happy. She could already picture her friend going on about wedding dresses, bridesmaid's dresses, cakes, and everything else that would be needed for her perfect day.

Yes, Momo would be getting married soon.

_What will happen to me?_

The thought appeared and was shot down so quickly inside of Rukia's head she was surprised that she had thought it at all. It was stupid, it was cold, and above all else it was horridly selfish. She needed to be glad for Momo no matter what the circumstances. She couldn't start worrying about herself.

It was just rude.

But… the panic was settling into her stomach anyway, and it was doing it ever so slowly. Now that the idea had popped into her head there was no getting rid of it. Rukia took another fortifying drink. She needed to think this out carefully.

Would she and Momo still go out on their Sunday morning runs? Would Momo be able to stay with her at the office? When the couple had kids would she become _Auntie Rukia_? Would Momo stay her secretary? Would she still be there to give Rukia those inspirations kitten-hanging-from-a-rope-poster speeches?

Rukia sighed heavily and sank into her couch. She flipped on the television and mindlessly scanned the channels. Now she couldn't just go out to dinner with Momo… it would have to be Momo and Toshiro. She wrinkled her nose when she realized that she'd have to buy her friend a new secretarial plaque that read 'Momo Hitsugaya.'

It could be her wedding gift.

"Although she won't have to get new monogrammed towels," she thought aloud. Her fingers had chosen a fishing channel and she changed it immediately.

She liked Toshiro. She really did. She just had to remind herself of the fact. She was sure that he wouldn't mind going places with her and Momo. Or maybe he loved her so much that he'd spare her for a night or two. Girlfriend needed to stick together… right?

"But how will we swing those Sunday runs when Momo's pregnant?" Rukia mused. She could barely imagine her best friend having a kid. Their runs would slowly become jogs, then walks, and then they'd just be sitting on a park bench because her ankles were too swollen.

Then… then the baby. Rukia shuddered at the thought of it all… breathing exercises, pain, drugs, screaming, strange men putting there fingers where they shouldn't—at least, not outside of sex—more pain, more drugs, more screaming, and then the squishy, wailing, byproduct of one night without a condom.

Well, unless it was actually _planned_.

She shook her head. Rukia didn't even know if she would be physically _able_ to have a kid. She was just very… petit. She wasn't sure if her body could handle it.

"I probably could," Rukia sniffed at the thought, "I can handle anything."

Rukia changed the channel on the television in an attempt to stop thinking about marriage and children. She came upon a crime show she had seen a few times before. She tossed the remote onto the couch cushion across from her and tried to focus on the show.

She really did like her life. It was just… with Momo getting married and all, she was starting a whole new chapter in her life and Rukia, well… she _wasn't_.

It wasn't like she didn't want someone to have… sooner or later. With later being the preferable choice. She'd like to think that someday she'd be able to come home and find rose petals scattered around the floor of her apartment, or maybe come home from a long day and see an actual edible dinner on the table, or even be able to have sex with someone whenever she pleased and not feel dirty about it. That would be a huge improvement over her sex life right now, which consisted of only a vibrator and occasionally her own fingers.

She sighed and wondered if she should use it tonight, the vibrator, that is; she hadn't in a while and she didn't want the damn thing to get rusty. Besides, she had been so uptight these last few days what with working with Kurosaki and the merger going on. Maybe an orgasm was just what she needed to relieve all this pent-up stress. She shook her head and stretched her arms over head. She needed to stay up at least until ten. By then Momo would have a ring on her finger. By then she would get an excited and teary call. Maybe afterwards.

She turned off the television and thought of what she could do. There was work, there was the occasional trashy novel, or she could try and make some sort of food that would be able to be reheated several times throughout the week.

Or… she could…

_The dating service._

Rukia glanced warily over at her computer and thought of what she might be getting herself into. In one side of this she had disappointment, rejection, false hope, and humiliation. But, if she weighed her options properly, on the other side of the spectrum she also had… well, she had sex. She didn't really want anything other than that.

Right?

She sighed heavily and pressed a hand to her forehead. Why was she going through all this shit then if all she had to do was go to some random bar and pick up a guy who didn't have hair plugs, multiple piercings, or far too many tattoos? Oh yeah… Momo had told her that she wanted Rukia to get into a meaningful relationship. Something similar to what she and Toshiro had together.

"Romance is overrated." Rukia muttered scornfully. Although not a moment later she found herself dragging her laptop computer from her small desk, bringing it to the couch, and pulling up the dating website. She had only finished the questions—all hellishly agonizing two hundred ninety seven of them—on Tuesday and tonight was only Friday. By what she had read about this site it used some kind of algorithm to do all the matching, and that took time. Considering how obstinate she had been in her answers she wouldn't be surprised it she was either rejected or had no matches.

_Rejection this early in the game_? She thought weakly, smiling at the irony of it all. _That would be something… and I doubt that Momo would make me sign up for another one; she'll be too busy figuring out her own wedding to care about me._

For some reason that thought depressed her. She shook her head and checked her profile. She saw that they hadn't finished 'processing' her yet.

"Lovely," she muttered sourly.

So, to pass the time, she pulled up a few files and began to type up the progress report that Ukitake would be expecting from her in a week or so. She patiently waited with the portable phone sitting directly beside her. She made it through another glass of wine before, at quarter to ten on the dot, the phone rang.

Rukia considered teasing Momo and making her wait a few rings but decided against it. She picked up the receiver and pressed the talk button.

"Hello?"

"_I'm getting married!_"

Rukia smiled.

-!!-

"Oh Rukia, it was so _perfect_!"

Momo skipped happily beside Rukia. She was bouncing in complete ecstasy while she recounted—for the fourth time—exactly what Toshiro had done. She whirled around on the path and sighed dreamily. She only stopped when she began walking backwards right in front of Rukia. She reached forward, grabbed her hands, and began to squeal once again.

"He was shaking so hard that his fork was banging against the plate! The waiter, who must have been new or something, asked him if he was cold!" She laughed out loud and skipped even higher. "Right after dessert we were having champagne and he nearly choked on it. I can't believe how calm I was throughout the entire evening. I just kept on thinking, 'I do, I do, I do' and it was easy!"

Rukia shook her head at the silliness of it all and pulled out the three dollars for their water bottles. She passed it to the vendor while Momo continued dancing in the park. He passed Rukia the bottles and looked warily out at the sprightly young woman humming to herself.

Rukia jerked her thumb back at her friend. "She just got engaged." She muttered and the water-vendor nodded in understanding.

"And then, and then, oh Rukia," Momo squealed, "He leaned across the table, took my hand—" she mimicked the action by putting herself in Toshiro's place and making Rukia her character, "And he said: 'Momo, I love you.' It was so simple but it wasn't like there was anything else that I needed him to _say_. I mean, I love him and he loves me and we're going to be so happy together. But I'm getting ahead of myself. So! Then he took the box from his pocket and he pulled out the most gorgeous ring." She drew up her own hand and sighed happily at the glittering diamond on her finger. "And he asked me if I would marry him."

"Just like you knew he would," Rukia agreed, handing her a bottle.

"Oh Rukia," she sniffed, "It was so perfect."

"I'm glad," Rukia said, growing slightly tired of hearing Momo recount the story of her proposal… again and again and again and again. "But can we choose, um, another topic?"

Her friend turned and gave her a horrified look. "B-but Rukia!"

She swallowed some of her water and shook her head, "Not that I don't care or anything, it's just… you've told me the same story four times now."

Momo looked crestfallen.

Rukia could barely contain the guilt that whooshed into her stomach at the sight of her friend's face. She awkwardly scratched the back of her head and shrugged her shoulders. "Well, um, I guess you could tell it again… if you wanted to."

"_Really_?" She shrieked and Rukia winced.

-!!-

"Ichigo! Come on, you're so _slow_!"

Ichigo Kurosaki grunted under the weight of the picnic basket and blanket he was carrying. "I'm _trying_ Yuzu, but this thing is freaking heavy. What the hell did you pack in this fucking thing?"

A sharp shot of pain ricocheted down his leg as his father slammed him in the shin. "Don't you dare curse in front of your sisters!" He shouted hysterically. He rushed up to his youngest daughter's body and placed his hands over her ears. "You could damage poor Yuzu's innocence!"

"Dad!" She cried, shooing him away, "_Please_, I've heard cursing before." She blushed prettily and continued walking.

"That may be true," he sniffled, "But that doesn't mean I can't protect you from more of those foul words, especially if they're uttered by your own idiot brother." He shot Ichigo a devilish glare and tried to punch him in the face.

Ichigo blocked it effortlessly and shot a dirty look at his other sister. "I thought you were slipping him mood modifiers."

Karin, the eldest twin, rolled her sarcastic eyes and continued walking along the path. "I did. I even gave him a double dose this morning." Was her short reply and Ichigo groaned. Great, even on modifiers his dad was a psychotic lunatic.

"Well remember to quadruple it next time I'm in the area." He growled, eyeing his father as he skipped—literally skipped—around the park to their normal picnic spot.

Kurosaki Family Picnic Day had begun.

Every Sunday, Ichigo, his twin sisters, Karin and Yuzu, and their father, Isshin, met at the large park in the heart of Karakura. They brought a picnic basket, which was always generously stuffed by Yuzu with tasty morsels normally eaten at a brunch, and a blanket. Both of which Ichigo was forever forced to carry. Each member of the family took a separate corner of the blanket and together, they ate, they talked about their week, their studies, work, and anything else that they wanted discuss.

Normally, they stayed for about an hour or so; Isshin would people-watch and try to pick out women for his son, Ichigo would fend him off and attempt to pay attention to his sisters instead, Yuzu would tell them about the restaurant and the new dishes she was learning, and Karin would inform them of her collegiate soccer team and the classes she was taking.

All in all, it was just their family time, and while Ichigo did loathe being around his father—most of the time—he enjoyed time away from the things in life that normally made him crazy, basically work and women. He never spoke of the two W's whenever he was with his family.

Even if it killed him.

They reached the top of a hill which overlooked a large portion of the jogging path, a small vending cart, and a large, grassy area filled with people. A few weeks ago the spot that they usually used had been overtaken by enthusiastic bird-watching tourists so they had been forced to move. This new spot was even better than the old one. It was sunnier and a nice breeze was constantly fluffing over their heads. Isshin had, in a dramatic move, decided to initiate this as the current Kurosaki Family Picnic Area.

Ichigo set the blanket on the fluttering grass and Karin automatically came up to smooth down the edges. She sat on her corner while Yuzu took the basket from her brother and placed it in the very center. Ichigo plopped down on the side that allowed him to overlook a vast expanse of the park. He noticed couples running, children with Frisbees, and tiny dogs yipping at the heels of their elderly, yet Botox-ed, owners.

"Scone, Ichigo? It's still warm," Yuzu giggled, offering him the delicious pastry wrapped in a napkin.

"Thanks," he said taking the buttery treat from her and biting into it. He sighed softly, Yuzu's cooking was phenomenal; the warmth of this scone had barely anything to do with its deliciousness. He practically swallowed his first and was diligently handed another by his sister.

"So Yuzu," he began, still watching the general comings-and-goings of the park. "How are things going?"

"Oh," she said breezily, "Just fine really, nothing new." She reached into the basket and pulled out tiny breakfast sandwiches and several plastic bottles filled with freshly squeezed juice.

While Yuzu busied herself with the basket and Isshin chased after a rogue Frisbee, Ichigo turned to his other sister, "What about you Karin?"

"Same as always." She replied as if she were bored out of skull.

Ichigo rolled his eyes and looked away. "You two are great conversationalists."

"Sorry, Ichi-nii," Yuzu said, using her special pet name for her beloved brother, "It's just… well, those Frisbee kids look awfully mad at Dad."

"Don't worry about him," he muttered, "He'll come back with a bruise, nothing more than that."

Fifteen minutes later, with a puffy blue bruise forming around his left eye, Isshin Kurosaki sat down on his corner of the blanket and dug into the basket, pouting slightly.

The conversation flowed easily after that. Their dad kept them entertained with stories from the family clinic. Isshin Kurosaki was the owner and primary physician of the Kurosaki Clinic, a small office that sat on the calm outskirts of Karakura and helped many local families with their medical issues. He had opened that clinic, with his wife Masaki, before Ichigo had even been born. It was almost like his fourth child. He always spent time there, treating patients, writing prescriptions, and fueling the town gossip mill.

Ichigo told them about his new job and gave a brief blurb about his new partner. Thankfully, his father didn't pick up on the whole 'I'm-working-with-a-woman' thing or else his father would have gone into a rant about marriage and then that would have veered off into a completely different discussion centered around Ichigo's mother, Isshin's late wife.

Ichigo didn't want his dad going into that many hysterics so they simply sat, ate, and tried to pry conversation from the people around them. Well, kind of, Yuzu and his father were always talkative; it was he and Karin who only spoke when asked direct questions.

So, while his father was begging Karin to try and open up to him a bit more Ichigo's eyes continued scanning the park.

His gaze was caught on something almost immediately. Or, it was more like caught on some_one_. He leaned forward a bit and squinted to make sure he wasn't being fooled by the early summer sun already blaring down at ten thirty in the morning. Yes, there was no question about it. It was her.

The asphalt twinkled under her feet as she stood stiffly by the vendor he had seen earlier. He watched her dig into a tiny pocket in her shorts and pull out a few dollars. She passed them to the vendor as another woman skittered about, constantly jumping up and down, swooning, and twirling. The man gave her two bottles of water and she tried to pass one to her friend but she seemed to be doing something else… reenacting a play? Was that what she was doing?

But there was no question. Rukia Kuchiki was standing about one hundred feet away from him at this very moment.

For a minute, Ichigo realized that this was probably the first time he had ever been able to look at her without her knowing about it. Any other time she'd think he was sizing her up or possibly checking her out; he never did either—she wasn't _that_ cute—but she would always snap at him nonetheless.

He watched her walk a bit with her hyperactive friend and wished he could see her face better. In the brief time that he had know her she didn't seem like the kind of person who would even stand to be around tomfoolery. But there she was, being around someone who looked exceedingly foolish. Even the dog-walkers were giving the pair funny looks.

His eyes zeroed in on his new business partner. She did look rather… _athletic_ dressed like that. And she was certainly exposing more skin than he ever thought she would be comfortable with. He didn't know why, but for some reason, he pictured her as a long sleeve and long pants kind of gal through all kinds of weather. But no, here she had donned a pair of tiny running shorts, expensive sneakers, and a baggy-but-not-too-baggy kind of shirt. Her hair was still up in a ponytail and she looked like she was ready to run an entire marathon. He snorted, he bet she did run marathons… for _fun_.

"Ichigo!"

He whipped his head around to his father. Panic settled in the pit of his stomach when he noticed the sly, sleek, look in his father's eye. Isshin began to turn his head like he was playing a part in some sort of horror movie starring reanimated demonic dolls, he certainly had the face for it. Ichigo tried to keep a calm expression while his parental unit inclined his head to the vendor. He prayed that Isshin only thought he was looking at the vendor and not the women in front of it. And he most certainly did not want him to see Rukia. If he saw Rukia then he would begin something resembling the Spanish Inquisition on Ichigo—only worse. How did he know her, what's her sign, have they gone out—ew—and when could he expect grandkids?

He did not want his dad to go into a rant about him marrying Rukia Kuchiki, or even going as far as him having _relations _with her. That was just somewhere his brain did not want to go… _ever_.

He held his breath while his dads coal black eyes squinted into the distance and began sweeping back and forth along the path Ichigo had just been staring at. Ichigo studied his father's expression and grinned with triumph when he noted the confused and suspicious expression tracing his face.

"Looking for something Dad?" He asked in a voice that was far too innocent for his normal demeanor. He took a bite out of another scone and washed it down with a glass of juice.

"I thought I saw you staring at something son," he muttered, catching Karin and Yuzu's attention. "Which probably meant that you were looking at a woman… although I do not see one anywhere."

_Thank God,_ he thought acidly, _she went away. Or my Dad thinks she's one of those random teenagers hanging around. She sure is tiny enough to fit the profile._

He glanced back at the vendor and noticed that Rukia and her friend had disappeared. "I was just looking at that cart over there." He said nonchalantly. "Not everywhere I look happens to be at a woman."

"Maybe not every time but _most_ of the time." Karin snickered.

"Hey now," Ichigo shot back defensively. "Don't even go there Karin."

"Why not?" She snorted, "Face it Ichi-nii, you've got more web pages and blogs dedicated to you than Winston Churchill."

Ichigo's eyes widened, "You Googled me?" He turned his head away in disbelief and rolled his eyes arrogantly. "Come on Karin, you should know better than that."

"Ichigo!" Isshin cried, "How dare you act like that! In front of your sisters no less."

He shrugged and turned back to the vendor, wondering if he would be able to grab another glimpse of Rukia and her overexcited friends. He thought he caught sight of her near the edge of the trees once again but he couldn't be sure. He knew that his father was staring in the same direction as he, searching for the woman he was sure his son was looking at.

He grinned softly and pulled out another scone. Karin teased him about getting fat but he ignored her. His mind was drifting off into another place. In the background he listened to the chattering of his family and sighed when a cool breeze wafted across his skin.

When noon rolled around Yuzu began packing up the basket—which was now emptied thanks to her family's perilously bottomless stomachs—and folded the blanket. She and Karin went with Isshin so that he could drop them off to their respective lodgings and Ichigo walked through the park to the lot at the other side. His Benz waited, shining like a star among countless other generic cars and mini vans. When he clicked the beeper and the doors unlocked he saw some envious stares coming his way; they weren't only from the tired-looking dads of several toddlers but also from the new-and-rumpled mothers who were carefully looking out for their kids, in case one of them—God forbid—fell and got a scrape.

He smirked selfishly when he got into his car. He even took a moment to listen to the delicate purr of the engine as he turned the key in its slot. Oh he loved that sound. It was like sex to his ears.

He pulled out of the parking lot and saw several heads following him. He had to be careful and vigilant though, there were always people out there who would try to trick him into an accident just because they thought he could dish out a couple thousand dollars for the repairs and for 'whiplash.'

He kept driving until he reached his apartment. He pulled the Benz into the underground lot and got out with a sigh and a slight stretch of his legs. He beeped his baby shut and grinned when he stepped into the elevator. He normally bypassed the doorman since he had an exclusive key to the underground lot. He waited calmly in the elevator while it sped upwards.

Once he was inside of his apartment he tossed his keys onto the counter and went immediately to his refrigerator. He yanked out a beer, glanced at the time, figured he wasn't planning to go anywhere today, and peeled off the top. Besides, even if he did go out tonight he could just take the metro.

He unfolded himself on the couch and flipped the television on. He wasn't in much of a mood to do anything incredibly strenuous today. His family had practically zapped the life out of him this morning. Not to mention there was also that brunette who had kept him busy last night.

All in all, Ichigo Kurosaki needed rest. Good rest, especially if he was going to deal with a certain woman all tomorrow. He nestled into the couch and placed his beer near the side of the coffee table in front of him. He closed his eyes softly and tried to snooze.

For some odd reason, an image of Rukia Kuchiki in running shorts passed blithely over his mind moments before he fell asleep.

**(A/N: And now we see Ichigo's charming family. I'm not too sure about writing Isshin, he's a bit eccentric for me, but that just makes him more endearing.**

**I hope everyone enjoys this chapter. Remember, if you don't like my story then it wasn't written for you.**

**To my fans and friends on mediaminer, I am so sorry if I have not reviewed for your stories or replied to your reviews. For some reason, my mediaminer page is stuck on how it appeared on July 15****th****. Even my own stories won't really show up. I'm trying to figure out what's wrong but I'm no technophile. If anyone knows how I can access the current mediaminer page successfully I'd be ever so thankful. And I've already deleted cookies, cleared my history, used the search bar, typed in the web address, used different search engines and it's still the same. It just won't work! :( I've cried, trust me.**

**Anyway… thank you to everyone who has reviewed so far, especially DanceoftheWhiteMoon, bleachgirl102, Star Garden, Animeash117, nejisakura, marislily, XcaliberSA, anime100, Raneechaan, cricketchick1900, Bleachy-nii, JadeRent, DeviantHollow23, haeye, lapse in judgment, imisscalvin, Zapenbits, t he WAL LFlOWE R. XII I., Sato Miki, and Picctus. I think I got all of you, ;)**

**REVIEW, REVIEW, AND REVIEW!!)**


	11. Chapter 10

**Disclaimer: I do not own Bleach or any Bleach affiliates.**

_**Odalisque**_

**Chapter 10**

"Morning Sunshine," Ichigo drawled as he sauntered into the office.

Today was Monday and, unlike most other Mondays, Ichigo wasn't actually in a bad mood. Perhaps it was because of the entire yesterday he had spent doing nothing but sitting on his couch, drinking cold beer, watching painfully manly movies, and sleeping.

Either way Ichigo felt good. Normally he only felt like this after he had pulled off a successful have-sex-and-leave act. But today there was no lingering sensation of sex to propel such a fantastic mood. It was just waking up to an early summers' day, drinking stimulating coffee, and driving his Benz to work.

And of course, he couldn't forget, there was Rukia's _pleasant_ face to look forward to this morning.

He saw her fight the desperate urge to roll her eyes at him. He grinned at her self control and watched as she typed into her computer. "Why must you insist on calling me that, Kurosaki?" She lifted her gaze to him and raised a singular eyebrow. "You know it will only serve to aggravate my temper and when my temper goes up," she narrowed her eyes but smiled mawkishly, "You are the one who tends to suffer the most."

Ichigo chuckled inwardly at her usual temper. Honestly, it was quite refreshing to be around a woman who would sooner bite his head off than bat her eyelashes at him. Rukia Kuchiki was such a woman. She wasn't going to swagger around the office, flirting and simpering and twirling her hair at him as she tried to catch his eye. Hell no, the Chappy coffee mug, remember? She'd save it before she saved him.

Somehow, that was a kind of comfort.

This was one woman he could hate, pure and simple. He could loathe her until the day he could no longer piss himself properly and not feel bad about it. He could hate her, she could hate him, and together they would spar verbally while trying and push sharp pens into each others spinal columns. Not to mention they would be totally at ease with it all. It was soothing… this kind of hate was even sort of reassuring.

"Maybe I'm a masochist." He suggested in an answer to her statement. He shrugged his shoulders and took a swill of his coffee.

Rukia snorted and shook her head at him, her gaze focused on her computer, "From what I've read you're not into S and M."

That drew his immediate attention. He turned to her and stared poignantly, "Wait a sec… what you've _read_? What exactly did you read?"

Her liquid sapphire eyes skirted over to his and a small smirk became present on her mouth. "Nothing much," she replied snarkily.

Her answer was far too ambiguous for his liking. Not to mention she had that look in her face that told him she was going to personally guarantee his misery for the next ten minutes. His frown deepened and his mind searched back to a previous conversation they had. There were only a few of them so it wasn't exactly hard. It was about his previous relationships… something she had said…

"_Please don't tell me that you've got something going with Inoue," she said after a moment._

"_None of your business." He snapped._

_His answer was far too quick and her wickedly spreading grin told him just that. "Oh, I see. It's not like I didn't expect it. I mean, with your history…"  
_

_Ichigo's eyes narrowed and his temper rose, "My history? What exactly do you mean by that?"_

"Wait a minute," he said, plopping down into his desk chair and swiveling it around so it faced towards her. "I thought you just said you've only _heard_ about me. Heard as in office gossip, word of the street, talking by the water cooler… _that_ kind of _heard_."

"This building doesn't even have a water cooler," Rukia told him as she waved her hand and turned away from her computer. She twisted until her entire body was facing in his direction. "Let's say… I 'heard about' as in I _Googled._ I don't really see a very big difference between the two."

"Christ," Ichigo muttered, leaning backwards and throwing his hand over his face pathetically. "Am I the only one who hasn't Googled me?"

"Apparently," was the dry response he received before she turned back and began rummaging through files.

_Great, just great…_ Ichigo growled inwardly. His sister had researched him on the internet and now his coworker had done the exact same thing. This was ridiculous; how many other people were going to look him up on the internet before he went and looked himself up? What exactly did people write about him? Were they articles about his keen business sensibilities? How about passages about his lawyerly abilities? Maybe glowing reviews about his sexual performances? What were they all about?

He hoped that it was more of the first two than the third. Although it didn't matter to him either way. He was quite positive that any over-zealous woman who ever decided to blog about him would mix together his impressive sexual performances along with his uncanny ability to disappear in the wee hours of the morning. Plus, he doubted that anyone who bothered to take the time to research him would pass up the more _interesting_ sites for those concerning his business abilities.

_But I do wonder if they give details,_ Ichigo thought after a moment.

"Should I Google myself?" He said, although it was more along the lines of thinking out loud than actually asking a question. It had the same effect though. Rukia raised her head and creased her brow.

"I really wouldn't care." She sighed. She glanced over at him and then looked back down at her computer. "We need to get the files from the foreign stock department today. I've already called to have them sent up but you might have to go down and get them yourself. I don't trust their carriers."

"Why can't you get them?" He demanded.

"Because I asked you to do it first," she replied matter-o-factly. "And because I'm terribly busy." She gave him the once over and shook her head in irritation. "You barely look like you ironed your suit this morning."

"Last night," he told her stiffly, "And I put it on a hanger and everything."

"Bravo," she sneered, her eyes never veering away from the computer screen, "Do you want a cookie?"

"You're a spiteful woman."

"Last Friday I was a bitch and now I'm a spiteful woman," she paused and tapped her fingers against the touchpad of her laptop. "I wonder what I'll be tomorrow… wench, perhaps? No… I doubt you'd ever use a word as complicated as that. Maybe… whore? No, I'd report you to human resources if you did and I guess I can assume that you'd realize that. It might just be ass seeing as how it's non-gender-specific—"

"You really love to hear yourself speak, don't you?" Ichigo interrupted blandly.

"No more than you do." She replied just as tonelessly.

Ichigo chose to ignore her entire speech about the epithets he was considering for her—he wasn't about to admit that she was right about the name-calling, as he was considering ass to be the next on the list—and closed his eyes for a moment, clearing his mind and his temper before he brought his gaze back to hers.

"Fine, I'll get them. But do you mean that we've actually finished with that secondary subdivision of the first division of the actual division?" He shook his head and ran a hand through his hair. "Well aren't we moving right along…"

If she was at all disturbed by his sudden change in temperament—and he was almost completely sure that she was—she hid it extremely well. He guessed she got that type of emotional control from her brother. Each time Ichigo had seen that man on television he had been as stoic as a slab of granite. He also had the personality of said slab. His eyes were cold and his voice was flat. Ichigo glanced over at his partner and shrugged, he was glad that she wasn't completely without feeling, like Byakuya Kuchiki was. He enjoyed her tenacious and vicious company far better with her just the way she was. Mood swings and all.

His mind flitted back to their conversation they had had about Inoue last Friday. He recalled that she had seemed… _nicer_, calmer even.

If given a choice he thought that he would rather take the vicious side than the nice side. With the venomous side, all the cards were immediately out on the table. With her nice side it was more or less obvious that she was hiding something… something probably nasty and vile that was meant for him.

She threw him a sharp look, "This entire merger would be over much faster if you decided to come in earlier and stay later."

"I already told you," Ichigo retorted immediately, he spoke as if he were addressing a toddler instead of a woman who graduated from law school at the top of her class. "_No_. I said that I intend to keep my social life social, I will not be holed up in this trench with you longer than I have to," he shuddered theatrically and extended his index finger towards her, smirking. "You, who brings as much comfort as a rat carrying the plague."

She opened her mouth to comment on this but Ichigo stopped her before she could even say a word. "Besides, you're breaking the rules enough as it is. If I'm not mistaken, I do believe that for the past week you've come into this office at about quarter of eight, not eight thirty like we agreed on."

"I did not agree to those _terms_, as you put it," she hissed, finally reveling in her uninterrupted time to speak. "_You_ made them and told _me_ that all of _my_ opinions were rejected. So, in accordance with these facts, I do not have any terms to agree to, meaning that _I_ can come in whenever _I_ want."

"Good God woman," he shook his head and finished off the rest of his coffee. "I really don't get you. I practically gave you a reason to stay in bed for—God forbid—an extra hour and you don't even take me up on it. It's like you actually enjoy doing this stuff."

"I do enjoy it," she commented angrily.

"Yeah, maybe, but not every single hour of every single day." He swirled his hand in the air and attempted to conjure up more words to go with his comments. "Don't you have any hobbies… knitting, pottery-making, cooking? Or, better yet, don't you have a pet to take care of?"

"I do the best I can at my job," she told him, "And if that means working extra hours and doing work at home than so be it."

Ichigo felt like laughing harder than he had laughed in a while yet only a small chuckle escaped his lips. No hobbies… at all? Maybe she just spent all of her time online looking up priceless Chappy the Rabbit memorabilia.

This woman was one weird piece of work.

"Besides," she sniffed and glared at him hard, "I wouldn't _sleep_. If you must know I'm always up and on my way to work by at least seven."

He couldn't help but notice the small amount of pride in her voice that accompanied that statement. Ichigo frowned and shook his head in aggravation. "When do you get up then?"

"Four thirty."

Ichigo swiveled his head towards her and tried not to let his bottom lip separate from his upper lip. Rukia just calmly sipped on her cup of coffee—in the Chappy mug—and clicked on a couple things on her computer.

"Four thirty?" He gave a disbelieving and exasperated burst of laughter. "Why the hell would you get up that early? Do you have a second job at a fish market or something?"

Rukia shot him a dirty look and shook her head, "Every morning at exactly five o'clock I take a small jog around the park."

_Five o'clock? Isn't that a tad bit extreme? _Ichigo thought blankly. _And while I realize that the early bird gets the worm isn't there such a thing as too early? Aren't all the worms still asleep by then?_

Still confused about his worm analogy, Ichigo turned to her and queried. "A small jog? How long is a 'small jog?'"

"About four miles," she answered poignantly.

"You are a very strange and neurotic woman." He commented dryly.

She glared at him, "That early in the morning the park is empty, the entire area is quiet, and exercising in the morning really helps to clear my head before the whole day begins." She tapped a finger to her chin and shrugged, "Not to mention studies show that if you exercise in the morning then you're more energized for the entire day, so my methodology is perfectly accurate in that respect."

Ichigo blinked. "And you do this everyday?"

"Everyday except Sundays," she told him sharply, "Then my friend and I run at ten in the morning." A small look came over her face and she pulled her bottom lip between her teeth. It looked like she was either worried about something or trying to remember something important.

It was on the tip of his tongue to tell her that he had seen the both her and her friend last Sunday but he reconsidered after a moment of thought. He didn't want her to know that he had seen her. That might bring on a slew of questions concerning what _he_ was doing there on Sunday. Then he'd have to explain to her everything about Kurosaki Family Picnic Day and that would lead to conversations about his father and his sisters, blah, blah, blah. He didn't want to go that deep. He liked their superficial relationship based on pure, demonic, hatred the way it was.

He also didn't want the image of Rukia Kuchiki in tight running shorts to shoot across his brain… again; not when she was sitting right in front of him wearing the usual blouse and pencil skirt and acting like a frigid bitch. He didn't want to think about her as an actual human… he liked her just as some weird work automaton.

"Well… that's commitment for you, I guess." He muttered, scratching the back of his head and returning to the topic of running.

"Yes," she sniffed in his direction. "I am very dedicated, especially to things I want completed properly, be it a run in the park or a merger between two multibillion dollar companies." She turned the full power of her glare onto him and he had to fight not to hiss back at her. Damn… if anyone could turn a simple statement about dogged commitment to a morning run into a fully blown lecture about efficiency and dedication, it was this tiny, malevolent, woman.

"Now, hand me those papers so we can get started for the day." She commanded, stretching out her hand and raising her eyebrows expectantly.

Ichigo didn't even bother to glare at her as the papers passed from him to her. She seemed to be immune to such looks today. Maybe since it was Monday her powers of evilness had somehow doubled. After all, everyone hated Mondays and _nearly_ everyone hated Rukia Kuchiki—everyone save that bouncy brown-haired woman, she must be a couple fries short of a Happy Meal to cavort with someone like Rukia Kuchiki—so maybe Mondays and Rukia leeched their despicableness off of one another. Like a symbiotic relationship or something.

She turned her attention to her computer and quickly glanced at him. "Are you just going to sit there all day?" She demanded when she noticed his listless pose. "Go get those files I told you to get from foreign stock department. Shoo!"

Leaning against the desk, holding back a bitter comment, and imagining chopping her head off with a blunt ax, Ichigo rolled his eyes and muttered, "I _hate_ Mondays."

-!!-

Momo sat across from Rukia, sighing continuously at the overtly shiny ring wrapped around the third finger of her left hand. She was twirling it dreamily with her thumb and the diamond reflected happily in her deep, dark, eyes.

"Oh Maid of Honor," she crooned, motioning to Rukia with her other hand but not bothering to take her eyes away from the large rock on her protruding digit. "What color do you think you'd like to wear for my wedding?"

Rukia blinked and bit into her bag of chips, "Black." She said after she swallowed.

Momo didn't even look up at that. "I'm thinking… peach. With frills and bows."

The chip lodged itself into Rukia's throat and she had to fight not to choke on it. "What?" She gasped after she took a few moments to pound on her chest in an attempt to remove the offending snack. "Peach! Momo you know I don't look good in anything light colored, especially those that veer to the orange side of the color spectrum. It clashes with my skin _and_ my eyes!" She tossed a chip into Momo's hair to make sure she was paying attention—she wasn't—and continued, "I look best in dark tones… black, navy, olive, ruby… you know, light colors just make me look pasty and sickly."

"What about a carrot cake?" She whispered. "I've always liked it and it's one of Shiro's favorites. But you know… I read in a bridal magazine that it's chic to have gourmet, decorative, cup cakes instead of an actual cake. That way it's a bit easier for everyone to get one and it's much cleaner than a huge tiered cake. Plus, anyone on a diet wouldn't have to steal an empty plate and carry it around to make it look like they've actually eaten the cake."

Rukia blinked at Momo as though she had grown an extra head or two. Honestly, who thought of things like this? Why couldn't Momo just hire a wedding planner like normal people did? Hell, Rukia would even foot the bill if it saved her months of hearing Momo prattle on about wedding details.

Momo and Toshiro had decided on a winter wedding, seeing as how it was the favored season for the both of them. The date was still up in the air but they were sure they wanted it to happen when the New Year had come and gone. They were looking at something along the lines of late January or February, when it was still majestically cold but out of the way of several major holidays.

Personally, Rukia didn't see anything wrong with just skipping the whole shittyness of a ceremony and going to a city hall or something. _I mean, if they love each other so much why not just save all the money that they would have spent on a wedding and use it on a house or a car or… birth control? Isn't being together what really matters?_

Rukia almost gagged on another chip at the sentimentality of the thought that just passed through her brain.

Momo frowned and examined the white-gold band of her ring, "But you know what else… it would be kind of hard to put those little figurines on top of cupcakes… and where would we find a groom figurine with white hair that didn't look like he was sixty? Or maybe we could just have our initials iced onto each individual cupcake."

A vein was throbbing inside of Rukia's forehead and she felt like shoving her plastic chip bag into Momo's mouth. Maybe if she was lucky enough the poor girl would choke on it and lose the ability to speak.

"Seriously Momo," she growled, "If this is the only fucking thing you will be talking about for the next few months then I swear to God I'll find a way to paralyze your throat."

Momo finally took a moment to glance up at her friend, yet even when she did there wasn't a trace of fear or apprehension anywhere in her gaze. "Really?" Was what she asked instead, "Can you even do that?"

Rukia could feel her temper boiling but reined it in. Momo was happy so she needed to be happy for her. It wasn't everyday that your best—and only—friend got engaged to the man of her dreams. For Momo's sake… she would put up with it. She would listen to the prattle about cup cakes and dresses and floral decorations and seating arrangements until her ears fell off.

But she would draw the line at a peachy, frilly, bow-ridden bridesmaid dress. She'd burn a dress like that before she ever wore it… well, maybe burning was a bit extreme. She'd just make sure it had an unfortunate… _accident._ With a wood chipper.

Momo was still staring dreamily at her, she seemed to be expecting a response to the 'paralyzing throat' comment.

"I think you can do it with Botox but I'm not sure," she muttered, ashamed of her earlier threat against her friend, "I think I saw that on a medical show once."

"Oh but those are never true!" Momo answered breezily, waving her left hand in the air. For anyone now looking at Momo Hinamori they would think she was merely brandishing her hand around in order to emphasize a point. But Rukia knew that she was actually gesticulating so she could see how the light reflected on her giant diamond engagement ring.

She paused and tapped a finger to her chin, "I wonder if I should hire an EMT team to attend the wedding… you know, just in case the caterers accidentally poison the pâté de fois gras."

Rukia stuffed another chip into her mouth and desperately tried to recall how to paralyze a persons' throat.

-!!-

"How is your work with Ms. Kuchiki going Ichigo?" Uryu asked him quietly. He gently tucked a napkin—made of cloth, specially embroidered, monogrammed, and brought from home—into his collar and picked up his lunch. He took a delicate bite, chewed, and swallowed before speaking again. "Is it getting any better?"

Ichigo, on the other hand, was more than willing to speak with a mouth full of food and to discreetly wipe away any ketchup that might have fallen from his hamburger onto his suit pants.

"If by better," he began, taking a French fry and stuffing it into his mouth, "You mean do we have a basic understanding of each other, then yes, we've gotten to that point."

Uryu quirked his head to the side, "'Basic understanding?' What do you mean by that?"

Ichigo took up another bite of his burger and thought briefly of going to the gym this afternoon. Maybe, if he was lucky, Ikkaku would be in the mood to spar a bit with him. That man always loved a fight. Or, depending on his mood, he'd seek out Zaraki Kenpachi; the dude was complete nut job but he was the best when it came to actual fighting between two people. None of that safety padding shit, when someone fought with Kenpachi there was a good chance that said person would come out with at least one broken body part.

Turning back to Uryu, who was currently cutting up a tepid green bean with an actual knife, he chewed and said, "Well, I hate her guts, she hates my guts, and with that arrangement in mind we've actually become slightly productive."

The look Uryu gave him could have been taken as comical or serious, Ichigo didn't know which so he stayed silent, there was no need to embarrass the poor guy by laughing at him. "It actually works out quite well. Whenever we speak we start this whole Amazonian battle thing and once we get it out of our systems we get to work and its fine."

"That's… quite impressive, I guess." Uryu said in his crisply clear voice. "It seems as though you two have figured out a system."

"Yep, and it works for us." Ichigo said through another French fry.

"So you're… working _well_ together?" He inquired.

Ichigo barked with laughter and shook his head fervently. "Are you kidding? I can't wait to completely blindside the bitch."

"Blindside?" Uryu's attention was piqued even more and his intense stare became further concentrated. "What do you mean?"

Ichigo sighed and leaned back in his chair just a bit. A drop of mustard threatened to fall from his burger but he caught it with a finger before it could drop onto his suit. "I don't know really… I just know that I want to knock Little Miss Alpha Male off of her throne."

Uryu's stare could have cut through ice. "You're not going to do anything that could threaten the project you're working on, are you?"

"I don't really know," Ichigo shrugged and shook his head, "But I know that if I did she'd just end up fixing it."

"Don't you think you're being a bit… vindictive?" His friend asked, continuing delicately with his lunch.

Ichigo raised an orange eyebrow and shook his head slowly from side to side. "No… I don't actually."

"And why is that?"

Ichigo stared out the window of his friend's office and watched a random bird flap sporadically inside of a rather irritating air draft. At one point he was even afraid that the damn thing was going to smack into the window. It avoided the nasty spill however, and continued on its flight, collecting itself after the draft and moving on.

"Rukia Kuchiki is used to telling people what to do all the time. Anyone who disobeys is immediately put on her enemy list. But now, I'm working with her and she's stuck with me until this thing is complete. She has no choice but to recognize me as an equal—or better, as I'd prefer it. I'm not some insect under her shoe, I'm the one who's going to get her to her new promotion and her new office. She's going to have to realize that." Ichigo said quietly.

The room filled with an uncomfortable silence as Uryu stared pointedly at Ichigo. His freakishly brazen eyes blinked a couple of times before he placed his fork down onto the top of his desk.

"I do believe that is the most eloquent thing I've ever heard you say, Kurosaki." He said dryly, "However malevolent the content may be."

"Well it's true, Uryu." He snorted, polishing off his burger and going over to his fries.

"And how, exactly, do you plan to… _blindside_ the indomitable Ms. Kuchiki—who, by the way, did not seem as horrid as you make her out to be." Uryu stated dryly.

Ichigo just shrugged and munched on a few fries, "I'm not sure yet," he mused aloud. "And you're wrong about her not being horrid. She is, I told you about the Chappy mug thing didn't I?"

"You did and I have to say Ichigo," Uryu said, "I'd do the same if it were between you and my grandmother's antique sewing needles."

Ichigo blinked at the absurdity of that statement and cleared his throat in disbelief, "You keep your grandmother's antique sewing needles in the office?" _How insane can this guy get?_

"Of course I don't," Uryu answered breezily, "They're kept in a locked glass display case near the front of my house."

Ichigo took a moment to pause at the possible hilarity of that statement. Well, at least, it _would_ have been hilarious if Uryu hadn't said that in such a serious voice. Ichigo knew he wasn't kidding about the locked glass display case.

"You know Uryu, just when I think you can't get any gayer than you actual are you surprise me with shit like this."

"And yet you continue to associate with me," Uryu mused wickedly. "What does that say about you… Ichigo?"

"I'm not gay," his friend retaliated swiftly with a hard glare in his direction. "Just Google me, you've got tons of women who can testify to that."

"Perhaps you're only trying to mask your natural desires by sleeping with so many women." He continued with a smile just as evil—if not eviler—than the one he had been wearing before.

"Can it Uryu," Ichigo hissed, finishing off his fries and cleaning up his mess.

"Don't deny what you feel inside Ichigo," he laughed softly, a maniacal tilt adding color to the teasing statements.

"Screw you Uryu," Ichigo seethed, getting up and exiting the room.

Ichigo wasn't far enough away for him not to hear what Uryu said next. Which was: "Sorry Ichigo, I just don't swing that way!"

-!!-

Rukia watched Kurosaki walk calmly back into the office, fifteen minutes late, of course, from his actual lunch break. He sighed softly, barely acknowledged her existence, and sat down on his desk. She gave him the critical once-over and turned her nose up just a tad.

"Did you know that you have mustard on your tie?" She asked him blandly.

His hand went down to the aforementioned tie and he wrinkled his nose in distaste. He stared at it for a moment and then—ew—brought his tie to his mouth. He licked the mustard off and set the tie back down.

"That…" Rukia cringed, aghast at his actions, "Is disgusting."

"Deal with it, it's only mustard." He shrugged.

"And now you have a stain on your tie," she shuddered and turned back to her work, "That's just gross."

"Oh what, like you could do anything about it?" He scoffed and shook his head. She only stared at him blankly for a moment before a small smile quirked up around the edges of her mouth.

Kurosaki placed a hand over his eyes and groaned, "You have one of those little detergent pens hidden somewhere in your purse, don't you?"

Rukia's grin intensified and she sipped her traditional cup of after-lunch coffee. "Now why would you ever think that?"

"Because the big man upstairs doesn't make them any more anal than you."

She shook her head and fought the urge to slap him, "I'll choose to ignore that, Kurosaki." She swiveled around in her desk chair and raised her eyebrows. "We need to get at least three more files finished before the end of the day in order to meet our quota for the week, can you do that?"

"You set up quotas?" He demanded, "I thought we agreed only to work moderately hard."

"_You_ agreed," she muttered darkly and tossed him a file. "But we need to finish them so I can start writing up my report."

He frowned at her and glanced at the motivational calendar hanging on the wall. It was nearly the end of June, which meant that one of their reports were due to come out soon. Rukia gave him a poignant stare and said, "We have to get moving on it soon. I need to put out a report and give it to Ukitake; he said he wanted one at the end of every month."

She blinked over at him and paused to run her thumb over her bottom lip. Her gaze was contemplative and condescending. He glanced over at her and immediately wanted to know what she was looking at. Rukia simply shrugged and leaned back into her chair. "Have you already used up your vacation days?" She asked suddenly.

"I have two weeks left," he hissed, "And I intend to use them in July. You got a problem with that?"

"Actually, I just might." She countered. "I might have a _tiny_ problem because I don't want to have to wait for you for two more weeks while you cavort around some random Caribbean island while I stay here and do nothing."

Kurosaki rolled his eyes and shook his head, "Or you could go on a vacation too. Have you ever considered that before?"

"Once," she spat, "And I hated it."

"No one hates vacations." He countered.

"I do," she snarled, "Just sitting around, doing nothing without a single purposeful goal to work towards. It's horrid, I hate being a sloth."

He began to stare at her like she had completely lost her mind. Hell, even his eyebrows had stopped furrowing for a moment.

She glared at him and turned her nose up angrily, "What? Stop looking at me like I'm insane."

"You _are_ insane," he snorted, "Isn't there anything you'd rather do than work all the time?"

"No."

"You know they have meetings for people who suffer from what you're suffering from." He informed her smartly.

An affronted sound was ripped from Rukia's throat and she felt her lips curl into an angry snarl. "I'm not suffering from any disease." She spat in a huff.

"You're a workaholic," he told her plainly. He looked at his computer and correlated the file they were about to work on. "You don't do anything but work every single day, you hate vacations, you have very few friends, you don't have a pet of any kind, and you don't have a boyfriend—"

"How do you know I don't have a boyfriend?" Rukia demanded hotly. Her voice was a mix of frustration and suspicion; she didn't like where this conversation was going. Kurosaki was being far too perceptive for her taste. She just wanted him to leave her alone and to stop making assumptions about her character, her life, and her ways of living. So what if she 'liked' to work—and she used the term 'like' liberally because she didn't, in fact, enjoy working… well, not _all_ the time anyway. She did it because it was the safe thing to do. Because she was good at it and because it ensured her the type of renowned that would make her brother proud. And also because she really had nothing else to do… why not come in a bit earlier, stay a bit later, and come in on the occasional weekend?

"You don't have any pictures," he pointed out dryly, extending one finger to her empty desk.

"Maybe I just haven't had time to set them up." She seethed.

"No… no, you would have brought them over from Gotei Corp. if you had had any. You would want to see him—or her—as often as possible."

"What are you insinuating, Kurosaki?" She hissed furiously, her hands clenching and unclenching at the edge of her desk.

"That you're single," he answered breezily, completely ignoring the fact that she meant the gender confusion on the topic of her possible-yet-nonexistent significant other.

"I'm not a lesbian." She said through gritted teeth. "And might I point out, _Kurosaki_, that you don't have any pictures on your desk either." She narrowed her eyes and snorted judgmentally. "But then again, I suspect it's mainly because you wouldn't want to keep photos of the numerous women who've given you communal diseases."

"Sorry Sunshine," he answered coolly, although his tone indicated his rising temper. She smirked to herself and watched the tips of his ears slowly turn red. "But I've been tested and I always use a glove."

"As well you should," she replied, "I pity the poor child who has to inherit fifty percent of your genome."

"Fuck off Kuchiki," he hissed.

"Sorry," she smirked, "Not in my plans today but I'll try to fit it in sometime tomorrow."

"My, my, my… you two certainly get along very… well."

Rukia's head jerked to the door and within the next second her legs had snapped to attention. Her chair was sent reeling back into the wall so fast that she had to reach her hand out onto her desk in order to steady her. Her palms began to sweat almost immediately and she wiped them nervously on her skirt.

Kurosaki hadn't even moved. The lazy ass was still leaning back in his chair, clicking things on his computer, and thumbing through the files he had layered to his left.

"Mr. Aizen, sir," she said quietly and respectfully. "I'm sorry sir, I didn't know you were there."

The older man grinned but didn't move from his post at the doorway. "I assumed as much."

"And you know what they say about assuming…" Kurosaki muttered from his spot.

"Kurosaki!" Rukia hissed furiously, unable to allow a comment as crass as that go unnoticed.

This was Sosuke Aizen he had just insulted. Sosuke _Aizen_, one of the worlds most suave, charming, and brilliant businessmen. He was often referred to as the James Bond of Business. And he had earned it too, orphaned as a child, raised in foster care, working three jobs to pay for college, graduating at the top of his class, rising like a rocket through position after position, weathering bad and good economies like they were nothing, and finally beginning his own empire. And now, after only twenty or so years, Suigetsu Inc. was one of the most profitable electronics companies in the world.

Sosuke Aizen was a business _god_. And here, Ichigo Kurosaki, a lazy, smart-aleck, _ass_ was insulting him! It was like a serf demeaning an emperor.

Aizen merely laughed and took a step into the room. "Oh don't worry Ms. Kuchiki," he chuckled, "I've worked with Mr. Kurosaki long enough to be familiar with his interesting sense of humor."

That still did nothing to assuage the sensations of despicable loathing she felt shooting towards him.

Rukia felt like throwing a pen at him but she couldn't bear to look so undignified—again—in front of his boss—her new boss—not when he was coming towards her with his hand outstretched and a happy smile lighting his face.

"It's wonderful to meet you Ms. Kuchiki," he said warmly.

She grasped his hand firmly and shook it twice before releasing. She prayed that her palm wasn't too sweaty.

However, if Aizen thought it was even the slightest bit wet he didn't say a word, he took a small step back, placed his hands into his pockets, and looked around the room. His gaze shifted from Rukia's desk, to her computer, to her mug, and then over to Ichigo's desk—which was once again ruined by copious files and papers all milling about. His gaze swept the entire room twice before returning to Rukia. He grinned in a gentlemanly way and raised one eyebrow above the other.

"I hope you're happy with your current accommodations," he said conversationally.

"There were a few adjustments to make," Rukia cut in before Ichigo could say a word, "But I'm not overly displeased with them." _Although one more thing could go,_ she thought nastily, _preferably the baboon with the orange hair._

"Ah, excellent, excellent…" he murmured mindlessly. He grinned at her and then turned his attention back to Kurosaki. "And I hope that Mr. Kurosaki is making you as comfortable as possible in your new environment."

Said man only scowled into his computer.

Rukia pursed her lips and fought the urge to roll her eyes. She had to fight that urge more and more everyday. "He's been welcoming me in his own… _special_ way."

Aizen chuckled lightly and Rukia smiled charmingly at him. Out of the corner of her eye she caught sight of Kurosaki gagging animatedly. She kept on laughing lightly but moved so her back was facing away from her boss. She crossed her hands at the small of her back and casually flicked him off.

"I hope you two are working as much as you seemed to be bickering," he teased genially. "Or else I might have to put a curtain between you two."

_Not even a brick partition could stop us,_ she thought disgustedly.

"Well," she began, feeling that an opportunity to railroad her partner until he'd never get the tracks rubbed off of his face had just arisen, she said, "I believe we're making fair progress but…" she took a quick glance over at Kurosaki, "I do believe we could be doing better."

Aizen tilted her head to the side and casually pushed his black rimmed glasses up his long, straight, nose. "Oh… how so?"

"It's all in the effort," she told him plainly, "We could be getting more work finished if we were both available to work more hours."

Kurosaki coughed loudly behind them and she turned ever so slightly. A look of complete loathing blanketed his face. He glared at her murderously, she smiled back, and Aizen glanced between the two of them, amused and clearly enjoying their nonverbal spar.

"Surely you two have come to some sort of arrangement already," he cautioned, breaking up their tiff with his soothing words. Rukia turned back to face him and nodded slowly.

"I just believe that more of our jobs could be accomplished if the two of us agreed on more… extensive time parameters."

"Oh," he drawled. He raised one of his hands and ran it through his wavy, rich, brown locks. "Well, don't get too wrapped up in this project Rukia—may I call you Rukia?"

_No_._ It's far too formal for this type of environment. And what if other people hear you? Will they think its okay to just go around and call me 'Rukia' all the time? How am I supposed to command respect if you don't even call me by my family name? How am I supposed to get Kurosaki to ever stop calling me 'Sunshine' if you're here taking shortcuts yourself?_

"Of course, sir." She murmured kindly.

"Don't forget to have a little fun along the way." He grinned and patted her on the shoulder comfortingly.

Rukia could practically hear Kurosaki snickering behind her.

"Of course Mr. Aizen, however I—"

"I hope that the two of you will become better friends," he interrupted tactfully, "In two months—I think August thirty first, if I may hazard a guess—Mr. Yamamoto and I intend to announce the merger of Suigetsu Inc. and Gotei Corp."

Rukia's eyes widened and she gulped. It felt like she just swallowed a boulder. "B-But I thought it was to be kept a secret until the merger was actually _complete_." She sputtered. She had entirely forgotten about her earlier argument and instead focused entirely on what her boss was saying now.

Two months until the announcement? Was he crazy? By August thirty first they would only be halfway through their fourth quarter of the fiscal year. They could be setting themselves up for large amounts of stock pressure if they announced it then. And even after that they'd only have a single month until the next fiscal year barreled around the corner.

Rukia wanted to groan and press her hands onto her forehead. A massive headache was beginning to form behind her temples. He was telling her this _now_? Right now when she was battling with a new coworker, adjusting to a new atmosphere, helping a friend plan a wedding, and trying to find a boyfriend? She felt like she wanted to shriek, tug on her own hair, and stomp her feet.

Aizen just kept on talking as though he couldn't see that she was having a tiny mental breakdown. "It'll be a huge bash; suit and tie, dresses, champagne, caviar, dull businessmen from around the world, and even a few select members of the media. I was thinking of Tatsuki Arisawa from the _Karakura Ledger_. She's always fair."

"I know Tatsuki," Kurosaki commented from behind them. "She's an old friend; I'll make sure she's there."

"Perfect!" Aizen crooned. "I'm glad we're all on the same page. And of course, I'll be expecting a speech from my top two lawyers on the progress of the merger." He smiled so all of his sparkling white teeth shined in the dim light. "I'm sure that by that time you two will be like two peas in a pod."

Rukia didn't have the gall to tell him to take his metaphor all the way to hell. She didn't want to hear this. Not when the announcement of the merger would come in only two short months. Not when the media was going to be hounding her soon enough. Not when she wanted to decapitate her partner.

Most certainly _not_ when she was _completely_ freaking out.

"Well," Aizen said affably, "I'll just let the two of you get back to work then." His large hand reached out to pat Rukia on the small of her back and she lurched forward at the impact. She wondered if all the blood had drained from her face. She bit her lip to keep herself from throwing a fit.

"Ichigo, Rukia," he nodded to each of them in turn and moved towards the door. His footsteps were heavy on the carpet and Rukia could swear that she felt each reverberation shoot up through her spine.

He closed the door behind him quietly, but not before she could hear him making small-talk with a few other people around them. Many of those people laughed but quieted quickly. She could only assume that Aizen was on the move fairly quickly. The thought that she should be proud that he'd spend several minutes talking to her ran through her mind. But at the moment she didn't care.

Behind her, Ichigo Kurosaki snickered evilly.

"I bet you're rethinking your vacation time now, aren't you Sunshine?"

**(A/N: I wanted to thank everyone for the reviews they've left. I'm sorry if I haven't responded to each review I get, especially from my ff readers. I do appreciate every single one though! Thank you all so much!**

**I know that the IchiRuki arguments might be getting a bit tiresome but just wait for Chapter 11… mwahaha! I shall keep you in suspense.**

**Remember, if you don't like my story then it wasn't written for you! My new motto!**

**Please REVIEW, REVIEW, AND REVIEW!**

**Tituba.)**


	12. Chapter 11

**Disclaimer: I do not own Bleach or any Bleach affiliates.**

_**Odalisque**_

**Chapter 11**

The bruise still hadn't come off.

Rukia grinned when she opened the door to the office and was greeted by the dark, grimacing, face of one Ichigo Kurosaki, who was still sporting a large purple bruise on his right cheek.

_At least the indentation of the stapler has worn off._ She noted with a type of scientific evaluation. _Last week I could still see the brand name on his cheek._

"Hmm," Rukia murmured, still staring at his face, "Mottled purple today."

"Shut up," he growled.

"You should be feeling grateful," she informed in dryly, "Purple goes with your hair much better than the vomit green it was yesterday."

"Can it Kuchiki!" He snarled, "You should be lucky that I didn't press charges."

"You have no one to blame but yourself," she commented.

"Should I be writing this down?" He seethed, "I'll want to remember it so I can tell my attorney."

"A lawyer would need an attorney to defend himself in an itsy-bitsy, teeny-weeny, personal injury suit?" She twisted her voice so it sounded as if she was talking to an infant instead of a completely grown man. "How pathetic." That statement came out cold and harsh. A complete contradiction of her earlier tone.

"I have thought of so many ways to kill you." He told her. She glanced over at his desk and saw that he was squeezing a smiley-faced stress ball between his fingers.

She nodded to the squishy ball. "Can you actually break those things?"

He glared darkly at her, "I've broken three in the last week, midget."

"Huh, that sure is interesting." She muttered, totally ignoring his anger and going over to make a pot of coffee. "I didn't know you could actually do that."

"I bet I'll get through another hundred before we're finished." He growled.

She tossed him a file, it flew harmlessly across the sky, and landed directly in front of him. "Sign that," she said, sitting down in her seat.

He picked it up and glanced at the contents. "What is it?"

"Our progress report." She told him confidently.

He glanced up, looked back down, counted the sheets, and scoffed disgustedly. "It's twenty five pages… single spaced."

"I was very thorough." She answered smugly.

He quickly clicked a pen and scrawled his signature over the front of the paper. Next to her own graceful signature it looked primitive and childish.

"When does Ukitake want it?" He asked coolly.

"This afternoon." She said.

There was a small pause from Kurosaki before he looked up and scowled. "I'll take it over."

Rukia's neck nearly cracked because she flipped it up so fast. "What?" She demanded. She shook her head vigorously and clenched her hands on her desk. "No, definitely not, I need to go, he's my boss, and I'm the one who's going to take his place when this is over. I'm going to take him the file."

"Listen Ms. Stick-Up-Your-Ass," he drawled, "I understand that, however, I need to meet this guy too. You've met Ichimaru, it would only be fair that I meet Ukitake."

"I understand that, Mr. My-Brain-Resides-In-My-Pants," she snarled, "However _you _were there when I met Ichimaru, don't you think it'd be fair if I was with you when you met _my _boss?"

"No," he countered, "You humiliated me in front of my boss. With you there when I meet Ukitake you're bound to bring up my nonprofessional attitude or how I won't work overtime," he sent her a withering glare, "Like you did when Aizen was here."

"I did nothing of the sort." She sniffed haughtily.

"You did too," he growled. "Listen Kuchiki, I need to impress the bosses too and trust me when I tell you it'll be a _lot _easier to do if you're not there hovering over my freaking shoulder."

She shook her head and sighed, "Trust you, Kurosaki? Hell would freeze, Carrot Top would be elected president, and my brother would actually smile before I put any type of trust in you."

He wrinkled his nose exceptionally hard and shrugged his shoulders. "Fine then, you don't have to trust me, just believe that I'm not going to screw you over when I take these files to Ukitake."

"But I don't even think you'll do that!" She screeched, throwing her hands up into the air in ruthless exaggeration.

"You know what?" He shouted back, "Just forget I even asked you. I'm going to take them over right now… yeah, just _forget _that I'm actually doing you a favor because I'm transporting this personally to Ukitake—freeing you from my apparently insufferable presence—while you stay here and work quietly on getting organized for a few minutes! Just forget all of that!" He stood up sharply and trudged towards the door, file in hand and scowl in place.

Rukia had more than half a mind to stop him but her knees just didn't seem to comply with her mental demands. He went to the door, opened it, stepped through, slammed it shut, and continued to walk down the hallway without another word passing through Rukia's lips. She simply sat there, stunned by his logic and his outright determination to piss her off.

Though she'd never, not in a hundred million years, admit that he might have a point.

-!!-

"Rukia!" Momo screamed, she brought of her hands to her head and viciously tugged at her hair, practically ripping it out of the precariously coiffed bun she had set it in this morning. Tears were beginning to form in her eyes and her nose was already a shiny shade of pink. She was biting her trembling bottom lip and tiny rivers of snot collected directly beneath her nose.

Rukia remained impassive as she tightened the laces on her sneakers.

"What am I going to _do_?" She shrieked, so loudly in fact, that three people standing near them cringed at the volume such a tiny woman was creating.

"About what?" Rukia asked in a bored voice.

Momo looked as though she was seconds away from having a massive heart attack. Rukia wondered if one of these helpful citizens would even think about calling an ambulance for this rather insane woman. She sure as hell didn't have her cell phone hidden in her tight spandex running shorts. Once again, Rukia cursed herself for postponing laundry day. If she hadn't she might be wearing comfortable shorts that didn't make her look like some type of prostitute.

_Although,_ she mused silently, _they are rather comfortable and they don't make running too unbearably uncomfortable when I get really sweaty._

"Rukia! Are you _listening to me_?!"

"Wow, Momo," she grimaced, rubbing her hands against her ears as she stretched out her quadriceps, "Tone it down a bit, will you?"

"Tone it down?" She demanded in panicked disbelief, "Tone it _down_?" She threw her hands up in the air and began waving them around like she was signaling an aircraft to land. "Rukia! We're talking about the most important day of my life! I can't _tone it down_ until it's over and done with!"

"Have you picked a date yet?" She asked nonchalantly.

Momo's mood brightened instantly and Rukia snickered inwardly. It was a trick she had learned in the business world, all she had to do—if she was dealing with a particularly moody or upset client—was change the topic, and their temperament, their frustrations, and their outlook would often shift immediately. The same this was true with her friend. Rukia knew that whenever Momo was upset with something all she had to do was change the topic just a bit—well… same topic, just a different subtopic—and begin to talk about that. It worked for a bit… until Momo remembered what she had been talking about in the first place.

"Valentines Day," she announced in a happy, choked, voice. "Valentines Day…" she sighed and blinked her wet eyes furiously. "I decided on that day well… because it's still in winter, it's the day of love, _and_ that way Toshiro will never have to buy me an anniversary present and a Valentines Day present separately, it'll just be one big day to celebrate our love… again and again and again…" She wiped a tear from her cheek and sniffled happily.

Rukia felt like vomiting.

"Our wedding will be absolutely perfect… but you'll have to wear pink… hmm, or red maybe, since you hate pink. But I'll make sure the dress is… is…"

When Momo trailed off into a silent and empty state of terror, Rukia turned her head back to her and looked while stretching her deltoid muscles. Her eyes were wide once again, her mouth was open in terror, and her chin was trembling precariously.

"_Rukia_!" She screamed, "The _dress_!"

Now seriously irritated, Rukia rolled her eyes and switched arms, "What dress?" She demanded, although she was being nice and using her patient voice.

"My wedding dress," she wailed, tears now running freely down her eyes. "My grandmother's wedding dress!"

"You have a grandmother?" Rukia inquired thoughtfully, she shrugged her shoulders and stretched her triceps, "Huh, learn something new everyday, don't you?"

Momo gritted her teeth together and snarled like a wounded tiger, "I _know_, thirty years in a nursing home, never even bothering to contact her _one and only_ grandchild even though said grandchild tried many times to visit her only to be shooed away with a metallic cane like some rat away from a lump of cheese!" Momo's voice was growing the longer she spoke and Rukia's eyebrows went with them. "And believe you me she smells like cheese too! Ninety four year old cheese to be exact and not the good stuff either!" She turned towards Rukia and began to advance threateningly, her face was purple and her fist was out and shaking, "And then suddenly, after I call her to tell her that I'm engaged she tells me that she's sending over the wedding dress that _she_ wore on _her_ wedding day! Don't get me wrong, the dress is the most fantastic thing I've ever seen in my entire life—white lace, silk petticoats, pearl buttons, rather revealing neckline for the nineteen thirties—but! Oh you'll never believe this…" she paused for dramatic effect and Rukia took that chance to take one small step back.

"_It's too small for me!_" She screamed.

"So adjust it!" Was Rukia's immediate answer, well, it was kind of immediate, she had to make sure that Momo wouldn't strike her if her answer displeased the bride-to-be.

Momo's face became a shade of purple that Rukia had never seen before. She almost wished she had a camera so she could take a photo and send it to crayon companies. Momo, however, was less than amused, she took two threatening steps forward and came to stand in front of Rukia. Their matching heights made it easy for them to stare at each other but when it came to the outright amount of intense maliciousness that either one of them could muster, Rukia was the clear winner. Her angry and powerful glare had such an alarming effect that Momo's stance became less homicidal, her fists became unclenched, and her face became less… colorful.

"Sorry," she muttered sourly before turning her pleading eyes back to Rukia. "But I just can't Rukia, I can't! The designer said that since the dress was made from such unique fabric and since it's so old that any adjustments would ruin the sparkle!" Tears began to roll down her face and she passed her bare arm under her nose, catching a thin trail of snot against the small hairs and tan skin.

"Well it can't be that much smaller," Rukia reasoned, glad that her friend had calmed down enough so she could actually speak coherently. "You're so thin as it is!"

"It's one size smaller than I am," she muttered woefully. "I'm going to have to starve myself."

For the first time today, Rukia felt actual pity for her friend. She reached out and delicately pressed the palm of her hand against Momo's shoulder. If there was one thing she firmly believed in, it was most eating. Women and girls around the world shouldn't have to starve themselves to fit society's demented conceptions of beauty. It was downright barbaric.

Rukia's eyes fixed on Momo's form and she frowned softly. Momo was healthy and vibrant and beautiful… any thinner and she would start to look sick. Her grandmother must have had problems to be that thin… but then again, it was the nineteen thirties.

"You're not going to starve yourself." She told Momo firmly before moving her hand down to her friends' arms and pinching lightly. A sudden idea climbed slowly into her brain and she smiled softly.

Momo saw that look, _knew_ that look, and suspiciously narrowed her eyes. "What are you smiling about?" She demanded.

"Momo," Rukia said, grinning like it was Christmas, "You don't need to go on some crazy diet. All you _might_ need to do is trade in some of this adipose tissue for muscle."

"Adipose what?" Momo asked and immediately crossed her arms over her chest, "Are you saying I'm fat?"

"No," Rukia sighed, "All I'm saying is that maybe if you came running with me more often you'd build lean muscle to replace some of your… softness."

Momo opened her mouth—presumably to argue—but Rukia cut her off again before she could utter another word. "And then right after the wedding you can go back to eating triple chocolate fudge brownie ice cream anytime you like and restrict our runs to Sundays only. All you'd have to do is… oh, I don't know, meet me in the park or the gym maybe twice more during the week." She shrugged and grinned at the thought. "We could work out together, talk about the wedding, and help you fit into that perfect dress of yours."

Momo's mouth closed and her lips stopped trembling long enough for her nose to scrunch together ever so slightly. Her brow crinkled lightly and she gulped.

Rukia could tell that she was winning. She always won whenever she employed logic like this.

"Well…" she murmured softly, "I—I guess that could work."

Rukia put another comforting hand on her shoulder and smiled, "Of course it'll work. All it takes is a little dedication."

A determined look was beginning to click into Momo's pretty face. Her gray eyes began to take on more of a hopeful tint and her skin tone replenished itself with familiar pinkness. She seemed brighter by the second as she thought about Rukia's idea.

"Alright," she said finally, she curled one of her hands into a fist and brought it down hard into her second open palm. She whirled on Rukia and pointed one semi-threatening finger in her direction. "But you have to make sure that I don't skip out on a single day. It's gotta be constant. No excuses."

"Fine," Rukia said solidly, even though she wasn't able to shield her friends' gaze from her encroaching evil grin. "I mean, if you _insist_."

"Just don't torture me, okay?" She said, her mood becoming more and more cautious the longer she stared into Rukia's maliciously planning eyes.

"Torture?" She scoffed, "Nothing of the sort." Rukia pulled her limber appendages from their places in the air and smiled at her friend. "But we do have to get started right away. Now. You and me, same as always," she motioned to the trail and smirked. "But we pick up the pace."

"Okay!" Was the chipper answer Rukia received.

"And we run it," Rukia murmured, holding up one hand and spreading out her first two fingers. Momo's eyes widened immediately and her face lost that happy pink color. "Twice."

"Twice?" She gasped. "Rukia! I thought you said you weren't going to torture me!"

"This isn't torture," she answered matter-of-factly, "Its exercise." She turned and began to speed-walk down the path, expecting Momo to follow her. "Let's begin."

-!!-

"And then! Oh Ichigo, and then Jinta looked over at me and he smiled!" Yuzu Kurosaki squealed in delight and hugged her arms around her body. Her brother looked on with slight indifference. "He's so cute! I thought I was going to faint on the spot!"

"Oh please Yuzu," Karin snorted, "The guy was probably smiling at the cake you just made. I mean, you gave him a piece didn't you?"

Yuzu's pretty face contracted a bit and she pulled her bottom lip out into a pout. "Well, yeah, but I know that he was looking at me because his cheeks went all red. They almost matched his hair." She giggled wildly and sighed, bringing a piece of coffee cake to her lips. "It was so cute."

"Yuzu!" Isshin Kurosaki cried, finally waking up from the unconscious state Ichigo had put him in, "Why didn't you tell me that you were finally interested in boys?"

Yuzu gasped and clapped her hands over her mouth. Karin snorted and reached for more juice. Ichigo rolled his eyes then returned to people-watching.

"I—I, um… well… Daddy," she said in a quiet voice, "It's just that, um, you tend to be a bit… _eccentric_, sometimes. And I was afraid that you might go on one of your little… _episodes_ if you found, um, out."

Isshin began to wail about being left out of the loop while boys might have been engaging in inappropriate behavior with his precious daughters. Both Yuzu and Karin attempted to calm him but neither of them seemed to be able to do anything to stem the flood of tears falling from his eyes. So Karin merely kicked him on the side of the head and he fell back to the ground, unconscious.

"God Ichigo," Karin muttered to her distant brother, "How can you just ignore that?"

"Years and years of practice." He said in return.

He wasn't lying either. All he had to do when he was younger was hole himself up in room with hundreds of his school books. His father wouldn't dare interrupt him while he was studying, thus, he had been successfully out of the range of his father's insanity through most of high school and college. Weekends had been a bit more difficult, mornings too, mostly because his crazy parental unit thought it would be fun to try and wake up his son with a dropkick to the face.

"How was your week, Ichigo?" Yuzu asked.

His normal scowl deepened a bit and he sighed heavily. "It was alright. My new partner's being a bitch though."

"Really?" Karin asked, perking up immediately. Ichigo rolled his eyes and wondered why his sister didn't just go goth or skater punk, she certainly had the attitude to match one of them. "What did she do?"

Ichigo glared at his younger sibling and said, "She tried to make me look like a lazy ass in front of my boss's boss."

"You are a lazy ass," Karin reminded him. "And by your 'boss's boss' do you mean the head honcho?"

"Yep," he growled, "But it didn't work. Instead we got invited to a party."

Yuzu giggled happily and dished out more food. "That's odd."

"Yeah," Ichigo said, his voice muffled by copious amounts of coffee cake. "It is."

He turned his head back to the myriad of runners, joggers, dog-walkers, and Frisbee players all milling around in front of him. His eyes ran over each person thoughtfully as he chewed on the deliciously sweet treat.

His meeting with Ukitake hadn't gone badly. He smirked at the memory and wondered how it was that a man who was that kind got stuck with the 'I'll-eat-you-face-before-I-look-at-you' Rukia Kuchiki. He was a nice guy though, he accepted their file, offered Ichigo some coffee, and he stayed to talk for a bit. Business remained the topic of conversation and throughout the entire time and Ichigo prided himself on how he didn't even mention Rukia Bitch Kuchiki once. He liked the guy. He had that grandfatherly air about him that made you like him immediately. His white hair, kindly smile, and the added bonus of laugh lines everywhere on his face made him so likable that even Ichigo left his office with his spirits raised a bit.

Then he went back to the office. Kuchiki had railed against him for at least fifteen minutes—throwing questions at him, accusing him, and even voicing paranoid delusions about him taking her promotions—before finally allowing him to get back to work. He had to spend that entire fifteen minutes imagining different ways to kill her—using only a napkin and a pair of chopsticks, which was all he had in his desk from one too many Chinese lunch orders.

_There must be a reason why she's always so fucking mean._ He thought disgustedly, _Maybe she had chronic constipation or some sort of disease that makes her act like that._ He took a sip of juice and shook his head. _But it's probably just genetic._

He hadn't ever told her this, but he had once met her older brother at a conference while he was still a junior partner. Byakuya Kuchiki was probably the most frigid person he had ever had the displeasure of meeting. Hell, for the entire first hour that he was in the same room with said ice block, Ichigo had thought that he had been the victim of some sort of botched Botox thing—guys did that these days—because his face didn't move throughout the entire meeting. But no, that was just the way his face looked all the time. Ichigo could have sworn on the eventual grave of his father that the man had not moved a single face muscle in the span of the next three whole hours.

When he had actually contributed to the conversation the elder Kuchiki had given him a look that clearly told him not to speak again. Ichigo hadn't thought it was possible, to give someone such a murderous glare without moving his face muscles that is. Needless to say he had been far too green in the business world to ever contradict the great Byakuya Kuchiki so he had wisely kept his mouth.

So Ichigo could definitely see where Rukia Kuchiki got her unique sense of entitlement and arrogance. She was the sister of Byakuya Kuchiki, the man who had so much power packed into one nonmoving stare that he had been rooted to the spot by it.

Ichigo listened distantly into the conversation between his sisters and then slowly tuned them back out. He kept watching the dog-walkers and the runners and the parents with their children as they passed through his range of vision. Listlessly, his eyes moved next to the concessions cart.

_Speak of the devil._

There was Rukia Kuchiki and her bouncy friend. Ichigo immediately felt like groaning. Wonderful, why did she have to be here again? This was completely ruining his Sunday morning.

He kept his eyes pinned on them, even though he told himself that he was only trying to figure out why the friend was backing away in horror and why Rukia was shaking her hand in front of her face. The girl looked exhausted and terrified at the same time.

Ichigo was ready to turn his head away and focus on his sisters when Rukia Kuchiki did something he never thought she'd do in one million years. Hell, screw one million, maybe two million. His throat went dry and his jaw dropped when he saw it.

Rukia Kuchiki took her shirt off.

-!!-

"Take it!" Rukia shouted.

"Rukia no!" Momo wailed breathlessly, "I can't go again, and not with an extra shirt on, I'll die!"

"You will not," she scoffed, "All we need to do is get some of that water off of you, it'll come off faster if you sweat more and you'll sweat more if you put on my shirt!"

"Rukia," Momo's voice was pleading and desperate, "You ran really, really, _really_ fast last time and I barely kept up with you then, how do you expect me to do it again when the sun it beating down, I'm tired, and when I'm wearing more clothing?"

"Do you or do you not want to fit into your grandmother's wedding gown?" Rukia shouted, immediately taking on the role of boot camp trainer and motivator.

Defeat shined in her friend's eyes and she nodded her head pathetically. Rukia thrust the shirt out in front of her friend and she took it while weeping silently. She brought it over her head and secured the fabric against her other shirt. It took a few minutes but Momo finally adjusted it until it fit well.

"Rukia…" she moaned, tugging fitfully at the collar. "It's so _hot_!"

"You'll live," Rukia scoffed, "Trust me, I did this once when I was younger, it helps to get rid of excess water weight so you can see what you kind of look like when you lose the poundage. Then you just re-hydrate."

"I'm going to look like I just stepped out of a swimming pool, aren't I?" Momo demanded mournfully.

"Yes… yes you will."

"Fine," she sighed, "But… just, tell me something that will distract me."

"Alright…" Rukia racked her brain for a few minutes before adjusting her sports bra, tightening her ponytail, fixing her spandex shorts—Rukia told herself not to think about how revealing she looked—and saying to Momo, "Well, I got an email from the dating service."

"Really?"

Good God, if that was all it would take to cheer Momo up a little then why hadn't she thought of telling her this before?

"Um, yeah," she muttered, "They told me that it would take a couple of, um, months to get the algorithm to find me a _match compatible with my best attributes._" She finished in a sneer and scoffed angrily. "Compatible with my best attributes my ass… what about my worst attributes, huh? What do they do about those? Do they think I'll just throw them away?"

"Don't worry," Momo wheezed as breezily as she could. "I'm sure that they're just basking in the glory of the challenge you just gave them."

"Challenge?" Rukia retorted, "What challenge?"

"Oh let's face it Rukia," she sighed, "You're probably the most difficult candidate they've ever had. I just think that it might take a few months," she tilted her head to the side and shrugged her shoulders, "And then maybe even a few more months. Just don't be too anxious."

"Trust me," Rukia chortled, "I'm not the one who's anxious, and besides, you were the one who made me sign up for this stupid thing."

"True," she agreed and then groaned, "Alright, let's just get this over with."

Rukia grinned and nodded her head. She turned, motioned for Momo to follow her, and broke out into another run.

-!!-

Ichigo Kurosaki felt something stirring in his pants. Well, okay, it wasn't _something_, he knew exactly what it was and he wasn't really sure he was alright with it at this moment.

Rukia Kuchiki just ran away wearing next to nothing. A tight pair of spandex shorts where he could see every curve of her hips—which he had previously thought were flagrantly flat—as well as twin expanses of strong, creamy, milk-white, legs. He had only ever previously seen her from the bottom of her knee and down, and even then her skin was covered by tan pantyhose. He never knew that her legs looked _that_ velvety smooth.

Ichigo shuddered softly and recalled what had been above the nearly nonexistent waistband of her shorts. An abdomen that was conspicuously toned and just as creamy white as her legs. She obviously worked out more than he had previously thought. He thought of her tiny black sports bra and gulped. She didn't have large breasts, but from what he could see they weren't nonexistent either. They looked pert and… and… _touchable_, behind that thin bolt of fabric.

Then she turned around, she ran away, and he got to see her ass. It was tight, it was supple, and it was just _there_. Like… _pinch-able_ there, even _bitable _there.

"Oh… fuck," he groaned softly. He could feel a small sheen on sweat on his forehead and another insistent throb from inside his pants.

This was _not_ how he ever wanted to see Rukia Kuchiki. Not the person who always wore pencil skirts, blouses, and sport jackets while simultaneously wearing shoes that could poke a hole in concrete. He didn't want her to become an actual… an actual… _woman_.

No, she was just Rukia Kuchiki, the bitch, the evil, the malicious, the nasty, and the wicked person who worked with him. She wasn't the woman with the fantastic legs attached to the most amazing ass he had ever seen. She most definitely wasn't the woman with a stomach that was practically begging to be eaten off of. She certainly wasn't the woman with the great breasts and the—the—

"Ichigo? Are you… alright?"

His head snapped up to his family, all of whom were staring at him—even his father, who had woken up from his second unconscious state of the morning. He swallowed hard and shook his head. He prayed that he wasn't sweating anymore.

"Oh, I'm fine. I think I must've eaten something that didn't agree with me." He answered lamely.

"What?" Yuzu shrieked and immediately Ichigo realized the mistake he had made.

"Ichigo!" His father bellowed, his own eyes leaking with salty wetness. "How _dare_ you assume this was your beautiful sisters' fault?"

His sister's bottom lids began to tear up immediately. Her bottom lip quivered hard and her eyes began to leak surreptitiously.

"Yuzu!" He squeaked, "No, no, it wasn't anything you made, I—I um, I grabbed some weird coffee at some shady place that didn't look too good before I came, it must have been that."

His father's face became red and he readied his muscles so he could spring upon his son. "How _dare_ you actually drink something and then consume all of Yuzu's wonderful food!" His father screamed. "You're so selfish, my son!"

"I really don't think that's Ichigo's problem." Karin interjected snidely.

Was he blushing? God he hoped not. But his cheeks were hot and his family was staring at him as though he was some sort of alien. Isshin's eyes were the most critical as they raked over his son's crumpled form. He blinked twice, focused on one area in particular—oh God, he _knew_ that he was blushing now—and his father's eyes shot back to his. A grin appeared on his face and he glanced over to the dog-walking, Frisbee playing, joggers.

"So… Ichigo," he said, even though his voice was not his usual insane rambling Ichigo was still rather afraid of what his dad might say, especially in front of his two sisters. "See anyone you know?"

"No," he answered immediately, or, more likely, squeaked immediately. Ichigo cursed himself inwardly and felt like slapping himself.

"Are you sure?" Karin snickered. "I thought for sure that you were looking at that half-naked chick."

"Shut it Karin," Ichigo snarled.

"What half-naked chick?" Yuzu asked, helplessly out of the loop. Ichigo hoped that Yuzu was still too innocent to really know about all of his sexual partners. He was sure that Karin was astute enough to know about most everything about it, since she did Google him, and then there was his dad, and he… well, he encouraged it—yeah, he wanted a grandchild _that_ badly. Still, Ichigo prayed that Karin hadn't showed Yuzu all of his web pages. He still wanted to be the perfect older brother, at least in her eyes. He wanted to remain her unblemished hero… at least for a little while longer.

"Yeah," Isshin said hungrily to Karin, "What half-naked chick?" He turned to his son and widened his eyes, "Ichigo?"

"Shut up you guys!" He bellowed.

Karin continued as though he wasn't even there. "Ichigo was looking at this girl and then she took off her shirt and gave it to her running buddy. She was standing there in spandex and a bra and big bro over here was salivating."

"Karin!" He screamed.

"What?" She demanded, "It's true!" She turned back to her dad and shrugged her shoulders. "And besides, you should be thanking me Ichigo, you're little problem is all gone now."

Startled, Ichigo had the lack of forethought to look down, directly where his 'little problem' had been. Wow, Karin was right. Hey, fighting with his family was finally good for something.

Nevertheless, he turned to his dad and to Karin. He scowled harder than he had ever scowled before in his life. Yuzu was still looking helpless between the three of them. She pouted her lips and crossed her arms over her chest. Normally this cute face got her any information she wanted, but today, Ichigo was most certainly not going to give it to her, not when it dealt with him having a boner in the middle of The Weekly Kurosaki Family Picnic.

"I'm leaving," Ichigo muttered grumpily. He stood up, once he made sure that he really was, um, flat.

"Have fun at home Ichigo," Karin muttered under her breath, a snide innuendo obvious in her inflection of 'fun.'

"If you weren't my sister I'd hurt you," Ichigo snarled.

"Too bad I share your DNA then, isn't it?" She smirked.

Ichigo shook his head, "You're too much like me for your own good." He stuffed his hands into the pockets of his baggy shorts and jingled the keys inside. He said goodbye to only Yuzu before kicking his father into unconsciousness and glaring at Karin.

He walked down the hill and dodged a couple of tiny dogs along the way. His eyes flickered over to that little concessions cart and he frowned softly.

He was nearly past it when he stopped, swiveled, and walked right up to the man behind the counter. He was currently serving a little kid an ice cream cone. Ichigo thought it was rather weird to eat ice cream at only eleven in the morning but whatever, the kid was fat anyway.

"How can I help you sir?" The man asked, smiling kindly.

Ichigo wondered if his scowl scared him. He did look a bit startled. But Ichigo couldn't help it, that was just the way his face looked.

"Hey," he said, "You know those two girls who come here every Sunday? Kind of short, black hair—both of them—and they're always running… or jogging?"

"Oh yeah," his eyes suddenly became suspicious, "Why?"

Ichigo rolled his eyes, "One of them is Rukia Kuchiki, I work with her, I just don't know the other one."

The man, after one more minute of consideration, nodded and said, "The other one's name is Momo, she just got engaged to a very nice man. She and Ms. Rukia are the best of friends."

Ichigo nodded, he wanted to ask the man what this Momo person's last name was but he held back, the guy already thought that Ichigo was some sort of stalker, if the creepy and untrustworthy look he was giving him was any indication. He didn't want to give the guy reason to call the cops or anything. He growled at the thought, if he called the cops then Ichigo'd have to explain why he wanted to know about Rukia and her friend, and then Ichigo would have to contact Rukia so she could actually vouch for him. He scowled; but he knew that Rukia would never end up helping him. Hell, she'd probably enjoy seeing him locked in a cell with three-hundred-pound burly men covered in piercings and tattoos. Bitch.

"Okay, thanks." He nodded and headed to the other side of the park. Before he knew what he was doing, his eyes were searching the path for any sight of Rukia Kuchiki in that scandalously revealing workout attire. With his hand in his pocket, Ichigo pinched his leg hard.

_Remember the Chappy mug comment. Remember the Chappy mug comment. Remember the Chappy mug comment._ He chanted relentlessly.

It was hard though. He just couldn't seem to get that view out of his head. He drew in a deep breath and told himself just to wait until Monday morning when he would see her in her normal pencil skirt, blouse, sports jacket, and with her hair held up in a tight, restricting, ponytail. She would become sexless once again. She would go from Rukia Kuchiki the—the _woman_ to Rukia Kuchiki the business partner, who possessed a tongue as sharp as razor blades and who wasn't afraid to use it.

That's it.

"Yeah," Ichigo muttered, "That's _it_."

Above him, some kind of malevolent spirit snickered.

**(A/N: Okay, so I know that I said I'd wait to update but I really wanted to get this chapter out. :D Consider it a Friday treat.**

**I love everyone who reviews for any and all of my stories! Thank you all so much!**

**Remember, if you don't like my story then it wasn't written for you.**

**PLEASE REVIEW!!)**


	13. Chapter 12

**Disclaimer: I do not own Bleach or any Bleach affiliates.**

_**Odalisque**_

**Chapter 12**

Two weeks later and still Ichigo could not look at Rukia Kuchiki without picturing her in a pair of tight spandex shorts and a sports bra.

Although he found that it didn't impede his work ethic like he thought it would. All he had to do was modify his method of insulting so he wouldn't have to actually _look_ at her while he said them, which was a lot easier to do than he had initially anticipated. His snide comments and evil remarks were simply passed to her over their desks or across the room. She didn't seem to notice though, each of his insults were just that—insults, nothing more and nothing less, no matter where they came from or how they were delivered.

They continued working as well as they could but the looming threat of the mergers' announcement kept them constantly on their toes. Aizen had given them specific parameters to work into so that they could be ready when everything was fully announced. They had to complete at least two fifths of the work presented to them. And while Ichigo didn't see this as much of a problem it was Rukia who was spazzing out about it. He had once reminded her—in a completely innocent fashion of course—that they had until the end of August to do this; she only snarled at him and said that it would be beneficial if they got even more ahead. So they continued on and the awkwardness began to fade.

As the time between them passed and the work became more intense their insults became less frequent. They were able to work longer in the silences presented to them and, happily enough, it stretched longer and longer each day. There was even this one particular day when she even went as far as to allow Ichigo to drink from the same pot of coffee. He had to hold back any quips about cooties for fear of her taking the coffee pot privilege away.

By the time August first rolled around they had nearly half of their commissioned work finished. Ichigo was rather proud of their success while Rukia was telling him that they could do so much more if they only tacked one more hour onto the workday. Ichigo still flatly refused and kindly reminded her of her dastardly chat with Aizen. He had that to back him up as well. She had merely wrinkled her nose, grabbed her purse, and went down to the lunchroom.

Rukia ran a hand through her hand tiredly and glanced at the watch on her wrist. She was nearly ten minutes late. She groaned inwardly and wondered if Momo was already having a hernia.

When she stepped into the cafeteria she immediately noticed her friend. She was standing at the food counter, staring at a wobbling plate of jello with ravenous eyes.

She sighed and walked calmly over to Momo, whose hand kept reaching out to periodically touch a plate of neon goo, then retreating when she thought of the consequences.

Rukia placed a heavy hand on Momo's shoulder and she must have jumped nearly two inches into the air.

"Rukia! Oh my god you _scared _me."

"I noticed." Rukia said dryly, "You can eat it, its sugar free. And get me a red one too." She handed Momo the money and began her trek over to the salads. The salad dude, who knew her quite well since she basically ate from his booth every day, smiled when she approached and spread his hands out in front of him. He indicated to the Caesar, she nodded, mumbling her thanks, and he handed it over to her. Rukia grabbed a bottle of water and a pair of utensils before paying the cashier and finding Momo at their usual table.

She had a color manual.

"Momo," she moaned, "Please, not now, okay? I've had a long day, I've got five more hours to go with Kurosaki, and we need to go to the gym, so please, please, _please _no colors today."

"Rukia," she countered immediately, her tone was deadly, serious, and completely un-Momo like. Rukia had to blink twice before conceding that that voice actually came out of this particular person. "Do you know how long it will take to create your bridesmaids dress? With your tiny size they need to know the color right now, that way, by the time your fitting comes you will actually be _wearing_ a dress and not just a paper bag!" She thrust the manual into Rukia's hands and glared. "Now, I've narrowed it down to carmine red, deep violet, or sky blue. You take it from there."

What Rukia actually wanted to do was bang her head on the cafeteria table.

"What color are your flower arrangements?" She asked wearily, her hands digging for the manual.

"Ivory and an undetermined color, it'll be the color you pick for your dress." She answered matter-o-factly. "So it is very important that you pick a good one Rukia. It could make or break my wedding."

"Oh gee thanks," Rukia muttered woefully, "No pressure." She blinked a few times to clear her fuzzy vision and fought back a yawn. She needed to try and get her logic to work right now. "Alright… let me see, it's going to be Valentines Day so red would make the most sense. However, too much red—and since the flowers would also be the same shade as my dress—might get a bit tacky. And no one wants tacky at a wedding… except rednecks."

"Uh huh," Momo muttered in affirmation, sipping her diet soda innocently.

"Yet the violet would match my eyes and contrast nicely with my skin." Rukia continued, "Sky blue would be alright but I would think that it would be more suited for a summer wedding than a winter wedding."

Rukia looked up at Momo for some sort of consent and found her nodding silently.

"So it's really a choice between violet and red."

"Carmine," Momo corrected.

"Red, carmine, scarlet, cherry, burgundy, fire truck… it doesn't matter," Rukia snorted, waving her hand dismissively. "I don't really know…"

"Go with the violet."

Rukia's spine tingled when a deep, masculine voice rushed over her body. She narrowed her eyes in recognition and immediately swiveled around in her seat.

Ichigo Kurosaki loomed over them like some sort of tower swathed in an Italian suit and topped with orange fuzziness. Her face was only level with his waist and she made it a point to look up so her head wasn't next to improper genitalia. She glanced up into his face and glared at him hard. He smirked down at her and turned his gaze back to the manual in front of her hands. He leaned over her and Rukia's eyes widened significantly. His chest was practically pressing into the top of her head and his chin was only a few inches away from the top of her head.

Her brain was screaming at the impropriety of such an act. What would her colleagues think if they saw her in such a position with Kurosaki? They might think she had become one of his new conquests. Her eyes darkened at the thought. Never in a million years would _that_ ever happen. Still, even though she was practically ready to rip off Kurosaki's head for being so callously casual about all this her nose was assaulted by his unique scent, it was spicy but it was clean. It was even kind of… nice.

She heard Momo gasp softly as he picked up the manual and genially flipped through it. Rukia's eyes stared daggers at him while he hummed a small tune and glanced through the pages.

"Kurosaki," she snarled through gritted teeth. "Did you want something?"

Today was not the day for Ichigo Kurosaki to intrude upon her only hour of semi-happiness. This was the only time of the day where she was able to talk to her friend, when she was away from him, and when she was able to recharge and get ready to go back in and spend the rest of the day with him. This was _her _hour and she'd be damned if he wasted it.

When he didn't answer she reached up to snatch the book away from him. He slid a ways away from her and another smirk appeared on his face.

Rukia let out a feral growl and flipped back into her seat. She angrily dug into her Caesar salad and stuffed a few greens into her mouth. She chewed with a fury and glanced up at her friend, expecting to see utmost loathing on all of her features.

What she saw wasn't loathing… it was appreciation.

"Hi," Momo said softly, her voice filled with awe and a bit of the wow-factor that normally accompanied a woman being pleased by the appearance of a man. But wait a sec… Momo was already engaged… she wouldn't look at another man while she was still reeling from this size of the rock Toshiro had given her… and why was she looking between the two of them like… like… she wanted there to be something between them?

"Hello," he grinned down at her charmingly and continued to rifle through the manual—_oh come on his arms can't be that long_. "Ooh," he smirked, "I like this color," he turned the book towards her and smiled like a rouge. "Champagne, I think it would look very nice on you."

He was staring straight at Rukia as he said this and she scowled at him. "It would make my skin look sickly." She told him acidly.

"Oh no," he gleamed softly, "I think it would just… _shimmer_."

Rukia could tell that he was mocking her but Momo seemed to be swooning in her seat. She felt like smacking her friend across the face for acting so foolish around her mortal enemy.

"Did you want something, Kurosaki?" She spat, shoving another bite of salad into her mouth.

"Oh now don't be like that," he snickered lightly, "Here I am, visiting you during your lunch hour—"

"Did I ask you to do that?" She demanded through a mouth filled with leafy greens. "No, I didn't, in fact, I'd rather you leave, so get to the fucking point."

"Rukia!" Momo gasped, "Don't be so rude!"

"Yeah Rukia," Kurosaki mimicked and chided, "Don't be so rude!"

"Both of you," she snapped, "Shut up!" She pointed a threatening finger at Momo and warned her quietly to stay out of it before tuning her back to her friend and glaring up at her coworker. "_What_ did you want, for the love of God, tell me and leave me in peace?"

He grinned and removed his hands from the manual. She didn't move until she saw him pull out a small envelope from his breast pocket and toss it down on top of the book he had just left unattended.

"The invitation," he told her, "It came today from Aizen's carrier, I was told to give it to you _immediately_."

She blinked twice before picking the envelope up and placing it inside of her own breast pocket. Yet instead of being thankful or even the least bit appreciative she glared at him and glanced quickly at her watch. "You know, you could have just given it to me in twenty minutes."

He shrugged nonchalantly, "I could have, but…" he grinned and looked from her to Momo and back again, "I saw you sitting with your friend and just couldn't resist coming over and meeting the one person who seems to like you."

Rukia wished dearly that she could reach out and punch him in the nuts. But no, that would cause a scene. Momo was tittering and giggling silently in her seat while Rukia wanted to throw up. She crossed her arms and felt the invitation pressing into her chest. She blatantly noticed that no one had even bothered to refute the statement about her having only one person who liked her.

"Well now you have," she seethed, "And now you can—"

"Ichigo Kurosaki," he said pleasantly as he extended his hand over Rukia's head once again. She couldn't help but think he was, once again, making fun of her height. "I work with Rukia."

"Momo Hinamori," she giggled, "And soon to by Momo Hitsugaya." She twisted her left hand on the table ever so slightly, as if to make sure that Ichigo caught the glitter of her engagement ring. Psh, as if he could actually miss it. You could see the damn thing all the way in outer space.

"Delighted to meet you," Ichigo grinned and Rukia felt like gagging. Sure, _now_ was the time when he was turning up the charm… to the point of suffocation, that is. Why couldn't he ever act nice around _her_?

"I've wanted to meet you for a while now actually," Momo said and Rukia could swear that she saw the little twit blush. "Rukia's told me a lot about you."

"I certainly hope not," he said just as charmingly as before. He even dared to shoot Rukia a twinkling smile.

She wanted to kill him.

Kurosaki straightened and he pressed a hand onto Rukia's shoulder, squeezing it for emphasis, "Well, I just wanted to meet you and now, if you don't mind, I think I'll get back to my own lunch."

"Oh won't you join us?" Momo asked and Rukia had to stop herself from lunging across the table and strangling the stupid bitch. Although she did relish in the fact that she could probably make it look like an accident, or at least make it seem justifiable. She held herself back on the notion that killing Momo before her wedding would upset Toshiro quiet a bit.

"Maybe some other time," he said genially, "Perhaps when Ms. Kuchiki isn't clenching the table hard enough to break it."

Rukia, although both of the people standing/sitting next to her glanced at her hands, did not pick them back up from the table. She fisted her fingers tighter around the edges of the plastic and sullenly stabbed her fork back into her meal.

"Bye bye then." Momo cooed happily. Her eyes followed him as he left the room, pausing to say hello to a few people here and there. Rukia watched his disgusting orange head vanish into the hallway.

She gritted her teeth together and turned back to her friend. "Don't even start Momo, I mean it, don't say a single word."

"What?" She demanded innocently, placing her hands up in a defensive gesture. "I wasn't going to say… much."

Rukia put her face into her hands and swallowed her food for fear she'd choke on it. "Alright… say it and get it the hell over with."

She braced herself.

"Oh my God!" Momo shrieked. "Rukia are you _blind_? He's _gorgeous_!" She rolled her eyes frantically and waved her hands around in the air dramatically. "All that shit you told me about him having an ugly face and being horrid and talking to you so rudely… Rukia! My God, if I weren't already engaged I think I would have jumped that guy right on this cafeteria table." She smacked it for emphasis and brushed the back of her hand against the forehead, as if she was in heat.

"All that 'shit,' as you put it so eloquently," Rukia retorted dryly, "Is true, he _is_ ugly, he _is_ horrid, and he _is_ rude." She shook her head and viciously drank from her water bottle, "I can't believe you would just throw everything I said it away because you think he's hot and because you actually believe that little three minute performance of his."

"I don't _think_ he's hot, Rukia," she replied wisely, "I _know_ he's hot." She looked to the end of that hallway longingly and swallowed. "Can't you just imagine what's underneath that shirt of his? He looked cut."

"Whatever," Rukia growled, "I already know what's under that suit."

Momo's head whipped around to her but Rukia just smiled wryly, "Red skin, tail, and horns."

"Psh," Momo muttered, her former excitement completely forgotten. "I highly doubt that Rukia; seriously, if you wanted, you and Mr. Kurosaki over there could have some fun… hot, sweaty, scream-like-a-porn-star fun."

"No thank you," she snapped and grabbed up her half-eaten food. She stalked away from the table but turned after a second. "Violet," she told Momo scathingly. "I choose violet, and not because he said anything either, okay?"

Momo's grin made Rukia want to come over and wipe it off of her face—physically. "If you say so." She answered in a sing-songy voice before Rukia stomped out of the cafeteria, trails of smoke frankly steaming from her ears.

-!!-

"You didn't have to do that!" She screeched as Rukia Kuchiki banged opened the door and stomped up to him.

Ichigo only smiled and leaned back in his chair. "Do what?" He demanded innocently, "I didn't do anything except visit you during your lunch."

"Yeah well don't do it again," she snapped, "I will _not_ have my best friend thinking that you're the greatest guy in the world when you act like the second coming of Satan when you're around me."

"Only because you treat me like shit day after day." He pointed out clearly. "And Satan doesn't have a second coming, that's Jesus."

"I don't care," she hissed. "And I treat you like you treat me."

"And what does that say about you?"

"What does it say about you!"

"I asked you first."

Rukia let out an angry shriek and brought her hands to the top of her head. He saw her fingers itching to start ripping out her own locks but he doubted that she would ever do anything to mess up her perfect ponytail. He smirked happily at his own power to annoy her.

Then he blinked twice and had to turn his head softly to the side. He couldn't help but see her dressed in a bra and a pair of spandex shorts… or less.

He barely registered her pacing in the background as he busied himself with attempting to control his mind's eye.

Lately he hadn't been able to keep himself from imagining her in skimpier, lacier, clothing. He told himself that it was perfectly healthy. He was a young, sexually active man who just happened to be somewhat attracted to his business partner. It wasn't her mind—or her attitude—he thought about whenever he pictured her in tight lingerie… it wasn't how she acted around him—that was what he thought of when he wanted to be turned _off_—it was just a fantasy, nothing more and nothing less.

So, thinking about Rukia dressed in a lacy bra and panties set, smiling like she had smiled at him that one time three weeks ago, slowly bringing a strap down from her shoulder and exposing her—

"Kurosaki!"

Ichigo jerked up and blinked twice before taking a swift look down at mini-Ichigo to make sure he wasn't completely alert. No, he was good.

Then he looked back at Rukia, "What?" He demanded, "I was tuning you out."

Ichigo wondered for a moment if he should dive under his desk and shout "She's gonna blow!" but thought better of it. He wouldn't want her to discover his semi-erect cock while she was on her way over to dismember him. She might think that he was into the whole punishment-dirty-talk thing… and he wasn't. It was only that he _might_ like the way she looked. But only a little. A very teensy bit. Sometimes.

He watched her slowly take her hands down to her sides and begin a series of breathing exercises that he guessed were given to her by one of the many therapists she must undoubtedly have. He thought he could even hear her counting backwards from ten.

"You know what?" She muttered, staring at the ground. "Never mind… just, never mind." She went over to her desk and pulled out the file they had been working on before they had gone to lunch. "Here, finish this one up, I'll start on the other."

Ichigo caught the file before she completely tossed it onto his desk. He frowned slightly and took it anyway. He wondered blankly why she had just let him off the hook like that. It wasn't like her at all. His frown increased and he looked her over once again.

She had dark circles under her eyes, much darker than was normal for any person, and her skin looked paler than usual. Her shoulders were stooped just a bit even though he could tell that she was trying vainly to straighten them. It must have been that Kuchiki upbringing that was making her act so proper around the office. But yes, there was no denying it… Rukia Kuchiki—the indomitable, the indestructible, the invincible—was worn out

"You look tired." He stated plainly.

"Thank you Captain Obvious." She sniped.

"Well fine," Ichigo retorted, "I was merely looking out for your health and well-being but, oh well, I guess you don't care."

"In that you are correct," she muttered, "I don't care, nor do I need any input from you on my physical state of being."

Ichigo glared at her over his mug of post-lunch coffee, "Well," he began snidely, "I'm glad to see you don't get any _ruder _when you're like this. What a relief!" He scoffed sarcastically and shook his head.

She narrowed her eyes at him and sank forlornly into her seat. Ichigo watched as she brought a hand to her forehead and rubbed her fingers against her eyes, smoothing over the bottoms and applying friction to the tops. A little groan escaped her mouth and she pressed another hand, the back of it, to her cheek. Ichigo peered a bit closer and wondered if the rosy coloring he saw was the result of his teasing or if it was more from a bacteriophage infecting the inside of her body.

Before he knew what he was doing Ichigo was out of his chair and on his way over to Rukia's desk. She seemed to be trying to ignore him to the point where she wasn't even looking in his direction. She must have thought that he would just veer off to the side and head for the door instead of coming directly over to her. She nearly jumped out of her seat when Ichigo swerved, sat on the edge of her desk, and put his hand on her shoulder.

"What are you doing?" She yelped as she tried to scoot back but Ichigo's hand prevented that.

"Just stop moving for a second, would you? I'm not going to freaking bite you."

Amazingly enough she stayed quiet, even though her eyes were riddled with daggers the likes of which she had never mustered before. She didn't even turn her head away. Her neck was a rigid line connecting her head with the rest of her rigid body. She was sitting so stiffly that Ichigo wondered if he could just snap off some part of her body. Or, if in such a state, she only moved like a Barbie doll. He shrugged and just did what he was planning to do.

Ichigo brought his hand out and pressed the palm into her forehead. A new batch of red blossomed on her skin yet he was rather positive that it was from his hand and not an infecting bacteriophage. However, her forehead showed signs of heat that were not induced by him. He then slid his hand down to touch her cheek with the back of his fingers. More red bloomed on her face and he had to fight back a small snicker at the sight. Her cheeks were just as hot at the rest of her face and Ichigo had to surmise that she had a slight fever.

"You should go home and rest after work," he told her bluntly. "You've got a small fever."

His hand had not strayed from its spot on her face. "I can't," she told him just as bluntly, still stiff and unmoving. "I've got to go to the park tonight and run with Momo."

"I'm sure it can wait." He pressed his hand to the other side of her face just to be sure, all the while ignoring how soft her skin felt against him.

"No, it can't." She refuted, "Momo needs to be able to fit into her grandmother's dream dress and she can't do that if she's a size too big."

Ichigo frowned and smoothed his fingers over her skin just a bit. If he didn't know any better he'd say that she was actually enjoying having his cool hand against her hot skin. "But she's pretty skinny already."

"I know," Rukia said, her eyes were closed, perhaps in annoyance, but Ichigo thought it was for different reasons. "But she can't make any altercations on the dress without ruining it. It's nearly ninety years old and the fabric that was used to make it doesn't really exist anymore."

"Oh," Ichigo said.

"We devised a workout plan," she continued, her head was resting on the back of her chair and her eyes were shut peacefully now. Ichigo grinned to himself and pressed another hand onto her face. She jumped just a bit but a little sigh escaped from her throat. She seemed to be enjoying having his hands on her face immensely. "We run around the park twice now on Sundays and either I run with her or go to the gym with her on two other times during the week."

"Sounds… constant." He said softly.

"I don't mind it," she sighed quietly, she seemed to almost be falling asleep. Her body was relaxing and her head was beginning to turn in whichever direction he applied pressure with his hands. "But since I always run in the morning it can get a bit weary." She groaned a bit. "Four miles, five a.m., everyday."

"Good God woman," he muttered, kneading his thumbs into her skin ever so slightly. "No wonder you're so tiny."

"No…" she murmured, "I just run for muscle, not to lose weight or anything, just for the… I don't know… the feeling, I guess. You're free. When you're running nothing else really exists. Just you and the gravel."

Ichigo raised his eyes to her face and noticed how she was practically melting into her chair. He continued and pressed his thumbs into her temples. His shoulders were aching in this position but he didn't want to move, not when she was acting so nice and everything.

"Just tell your friend that you need a day off. You can make it up on another day." He told her. "I want you to be as bitchy as you are when you're healthy, not the über-bitchy you're bound to be when you're sick."

He expected her to at least lash out verbally at him. Even though he was glad she didn't. She just smiled and chuckled ruefully. "Sure… whatever Kurosaki."

Ichigo just grinned and continued massaging her face with his hands. Her skin felt nice against his rather rough skin. She seemed to be enjoying it very much. He told himself that it was just the fever; it must have been getting to her brain or something since she would never actually allow him to do something like this when she was rational. Still, he couldn't help but relish the moment. She looked peaceful sitting against the chair like that. She was relaxed and soft and pliable in his hands. She looked… appealing, just resting comfortably in her chair. It made him think of the fantasy he had had only a few minutes ago. What if she was dressed in that skimpy lingerie he had imagined… lying against that chair… breathing softly and beautifully because he had just made her come…

_Whoa_, Ichigo thought, surprised at how vivid the image became in his mind. _That was _not_ right._

"Maybe I will go home today." She said softly. Ichigo's hands were going down to the area of her neck. She groaned softly and smiled as his thumb skittered around her pulse. "You're… surprisingly good at that."

Ichigo smiled and almost had the insane urge to run his thumb over her bottom lip, just to see if it was as soft as it looked.

He scooted forward just a bit until he was on the very edge of her desk. He rubbed his thumb over the front of her throat and she immediately went boneless in his hands. He wouldn't have been surprised if she actually slid down onto the floor in just a moment. Ichigo smirked softly and brought his hands back to her cheeks. The urge to touch her lips was so strong. He moved his hand into position and swallowed before reaching his thumb out and—

"Mr. Kurosaki?"

Ichigo's thumb jerked back but his hands did not move from their spot on Rukia's face. Rukia had also jumped to attention at the sound of Ichigo's name being said by someone other than herself. She jerked back and swatted his hands away.

"Okay Kurosaki," she said scathingly and Ichigo inwardly cringed at the sound. "I _get_ that I have a fever, stop molesting my face why don't you?"

Ichigo growled at her and flinched when he felt his hand stinging from her slap. He glared down at her but she didn't return it. He frowned softly and noticed that her eyes flickered ever so slightly over to the person—the woman—standing in the doorframe. Ichigo glanced back at the door and immediately felt his stomach drop three feet.

Orihime Inoue was standing stock still at their door, gripping a file like it was her lifeline, biting her lip until it was bloodless, and squinting her eyes into a narrow glare.

He swiveled his head back to his business partner and she stared at him meaningfully. She even nodded her head just a bit before he realized what she was trying to tell him.

"God woman," he spat as vehemently as he could, "I was just trying to help. You're a thankless bitch, you know that?"

"Oh how adult," she hissed back. "I suppose tomorrow you'll be calling me a poopy-head?"

"Thanks for the suggestion; I _was_ thinking more along the lines of 'butthead' or 'turd breath.'" He shot at her. He turned to Inoue and narrowed his eyes at her. She did seem to be a bit more relaxed at the sight of Ichigo sitting on the edge of Rukia's desk. She had looked like she was ready to start screaming at the sight of Ichigo's hands on his business partner's face. He thought that they covered it up well enough though. That bit about the fever—while it was technically true—would explain why Rukia was blushing at the moment, if she really was blushing, that is. He glanced back at her and smirked. She looked mortified that she had allowed him to touch her face like that.

Inoue stepped into the room and handed Ichigo a small file. "This was from Mr. Ichimaru, he just wanted me to give it to you."

Ichigo opened it, scowled, and closed it before he looked up at Inoue, scowled again, and said, "Thanks Orihime."

"No problem," she stood for a few moments and shifted from one foot to the other. Ichigo still sat on the edge of the Rukia's desk and to his surprise—and he bet to Inoue as well—she didn't order him off.

After two minutes had passed Rukia turned to Inoue and asked, "Did you need something else?"

"Oh!" She giggled, pressing her hand to her mouth as if someone had just told an exceedingly funny joke. "No! I just… you're sick, Ms. Kuchiki?"

"Slightly," Rukia told her stiffly. "It's nothing big."

"Oh…" she blinked her pretty grey eyes a few times and smiled a strained and tight smile. "Alright then. Well, if you ever need someone to fill in for you then feel _free_ to ask. I wouldn't mind dealing with Mr. Kurosaki for a day or two." She grinned softly and Ichigo only nodded tersely. He glanced at Rukia and she glanced back at him. A small, sadistic smile was curling on her lips. Ichigo glared at her and shook his head softly from side to side.

Rukia disregarded the quiet warning and leaned in her chair so she could see around Ichigo. "I'll remember that Orihime. Thank you."

Inoue immediately brightened and she clasped her hands together under her breasts, making them bounce upward in a rather unnatural way. "Alright then, I'll see you two later."

"Goodbye," Rukia said, her voice sounded just a bit more nasally than it had been earlier today.

Inoue exited the room in a flurry of orange hair and heavy perfume, leaving behind two agitated and slightly embarrassed coworkers. Ichigo also noticed how Inoue left the door wide open. He scowled hard, this woman was just freaky creepy. Did she think she was keeping tabs on him by keeping the door open?

_Probably_, he groaned inwardly in an answer to his own question.

He sighed angrily and moved to shut the damn thing. He pushed it closed loudly enough for Inoue to hear. He turned back to Rukia and saw that she had noticed.

"Great," she muttered, "Now everyone is going to think we're doing something improper."

"Improper?" Ichigo mocked. His temper was on the rise now. His mood always went down whenever Inoue showed up and acted creepy. Which was basically always. "How nineteenth century of you."

"Just drop it please," she muttered, her face was still horribly red and Ichigo had a feeling that it was also due to the augmenting fever.

He had a horrible quip on the edge of her tongue but he held it in. She was just sitting there, upset and feverish, and an open target for any jokes or accusations he could think up. She frowned softly and put a hand on top of one of her cheeks, as if feeling the heat for herself. Ichigo's mind immediately flashed back to where his hand had been there. His scowl softened and he thought to when he had rubbed and massaged her neck. How she had looked content and happy.

"Sorry," Ichigo muttered softly.

Rukia's eyes lifted up to Ichigo's and she blinked twice before turning and glancing back behind her. She swiveled back to him and frowned. "Are you sure you're talking to me? Because I _thought_ I just heard you apologize."

He was on the defense immediately. "Shut it!" He snarled, hackles raised and teeth bared. "I was just trying to be a bit nice seeing as how you're sick and all." He crossed the room and plopped down into his own desk chair. "But fine, you're just too used to being a bitch to actually appreciate an apology."

Rukia frowned at him and turned away. Ichigo could see that her cheeks were still scarlet and that she seemed to be carrying her body a bit heavier than normal. She cleared her throat heavily and pressed another hand into her forehead. Ichigo actually felt kind of bad for her. She frowned softly and organized the already impeccable files sitting on top of her desk. She hesitated for a few more minutes before picking up her cell phone, dialing, and pressing it into her ear.

"Momo?" She said softly, her voice was becoming hoarser by the minute.

There was a slight pause before she pinched her fingers around the bridge of her nose. "Momo," she groaned, "Please, I don't want to hear this right now. No, I won't… I promise, no—yes, I'll wait for the site." She sighed softly and pressed her entire face into her palm.

Ichigo watched her call the chipper young woman with interest. What the hell were they talking about? What did she mean when she said she'd wait for the site? What didn't she want to hear about? He raised an eyebrow and wondered if this had anything to do with his surprise visit to their lunch table. He friend had obviously admired his… _attributes_. Maybe little miss Momo was trying to convince Rukia to do the same.

"Momo," she sighed, "I just wanted to call you and tell you that I can't work out with you today."

Ichigo heard a resounding "_Yes!_" come from the other side of the phone. He grinned softly and wondered just how hard Rukia was pushing the poor bride-to-be. There was another moment of silence before the eventual follow-up question was asked.

"I'm getting a fever," she told her friend, "I just need to go home and rest."

There was a slight pause before, "Yes… I have something to eat at home. I think. If not I'll just have… tea."

Ichigo raised his other eyebrow at that. Rukia was now arguing with Momo about eating things that weren't even healthy to have when you were sick. Rukia looked like she was ready to hurl her cell phone at the wall.

"Momo!" She cried, "I'll get some chicken soup from a Chinese restaurant, okay? Okay! I'm hanging up now." She took the phone away from her ear and slid it shut. She pressed another hand to her head and sighed. "Let's just get this day over with. I'm going to leave right at five."

"You can leave earlier if you want," Ichigo told her, feeling generous for some reason. Maybe he just felt sorry for her because she was sick. That was probably it. "It won't kill you to leave at four thirty… or earlier. God knows you've probably put in hundreds of overtime hours."

"I don't leave early," she muttered before a full-on sneeze erupted from her nose. She covered it like a lady but she still refused to pull her hand away from her mouth until she had a tissue to wipe the, ah, _remnants_ away. "It's a principle." She continued nasally.

Ichigo only shrugged and shook his head. "If you say so."

"I do say so."

"Whatever."

-!!-

The fish, still mindlessly oblivious to everything going on around them, swam beautifully in the tank. The man stood above them and sprinkled a few flecks of food into the top of the aquarium. The colorful bodies in the water jumped up to the top of the tank and gobbled down the little morsels.

The door opened and the second man stepped inside.

"How's everything going?" The man near the fish tank asked as he twirled his finger around in the water.

"You're not going to invite me in?" He murmured snidely.

He turned softly and smirked lightly. He extended his hand to the chair and grinned. "Of course, how insensitive of me. Please, have a seat."

The seat was taken immediately and the man near the fish tank toyed with his pets for a moment longer before he moved to his own desk and sat down softly. He crossed his arms over his chest, leaned back, and cocked his head to the side.

"Do you have an update?"

"I have the plan," the second man said quietly, "The target is like a machine, the routine is solid. I'll have no problems."

"Excellent." There was a slight pause and the man behind the desk narrowed his eyes. "Was there something else you wanted?"

"Yes," his companion murmured softly, "I want another quarter of my fee added on."

The man behind the desk did not speak, he did not blink, he merely removed a piece of lint from his expensive suit. "You are not satisfied with your present fee?"

"I've done the numbers." He answered. "This is a rather high profile target you want terminated. If I'm to do it _and_ make my flight to the Islands without any complications then I'm going to need a little more… _incentive_."

His associate did not move from his seat. The two stared at each other over the darkness of the room. Both of them had their jaws locked and their eyebrows furrowed. The client and the assassin, staring at each other, testing each other, trying to find out who was the more powerful of the two.

He leaned across the desk and folded his hands. "I'll give you another half."

The associate raised an eyebrow and smirked softly. "That's very generous of you."

"I'm feeling very generous." The man affirmed quietly. "In fact, I'm giving you half because I can't afford to have this go wrong. I want the target completely terminated. No mishaps, no mistakes, and soon enough you'll be a very rich man sipping a martini on a nice, sandy, beach."

He grinned softly but nodded curtly. "Excellent." He rose from his chair and made his way to the door. "You won't be disappointed."

"I'm counting on it."

He moved towards the door but was stopped by the voice from behind the desk.

"Do you have a date set?"

The man turned at the door and shook his head silently. "The less you know the cleaner your hands will be."

"Ah, of course, I forgot."

The man nodded before exiting the room. The client turned to the fish in the tank and watched them swim silently.

**(A/N: So the plot thickens even more! Hehehehee! I giggle in amusement!**

**Thank you to everyone who as reviewed, even if I haven't replied, I adore every single comment I receive. You guys are the real heroes; we authors are merely at your beck and call! :D**

**Remember, if you don't like my story then it wasn't written for you. :)**

**PLEASE CONTINUE TO REVIEW!! Love you all!)**


	14. Chapter 13

**Disclaimer: I do not own Bleach or any Bleach affiliates.**

_**Odalisque**_

**Chapter 13**

"What do you think?" Rukia took the dress off the rack and pulled it against her body.

Momo shook her head and pried the dress from her hands. "Do you want to look like a nun?"

"No," her friend replied, "I want to look… professional. Maybe a bit conservative. You know these old-school business types. Over fifty, proficient, skilled… proper."

Momo began searching through more racks and bit her bottom lip softly. "Honey, I also know that these guys like to pop those little blue pills and enjoy twenty-something leggy blondes while their wives chatter back at the penthouses." She dragged a skimpy, shimmering, bright pink number from the back of the rack and showed it to her. "You should wear something that will make their eyes stay on _you_ for the entire evening. That way you'll be sure to have tons of people coming to talk to you. You'll snag deal after deal after deal and schmooze like there's no tomorrow. Don't deny it. You know you'd be a bombshell in anything like this."

"Oh please," she grumbled angrily and sniffling pathetically. She put the dress back onto the rack and wrinkled her nose. "I'm not going to wear something _that_ revealing."

"Well could you at least wear something just a _bit_ revealing?" Momo sighed in a defeat and began to search through the glittering fabrics once again. "I think one with a plunging _something_ would be beautiful. A couple drapes here and there, no frills or embroidery, on you that would just look tacky. But anything else…" she whistled softly and nodded. "It would be gorgeous."

Rukia put a tissue to her nose and blew into it miserably. She saw one of the clothing attendants give her a dirty look but Rukia gave it right back. She was in one of the most expensive dress boutiques in the entirety of Karakura and damn it all if she wasn't going to pay full price for a very pricy dress she would wear only once. So she felt she had an absolute right to blow her nose in this stuffy place, especially since she was getting over a cold. A cold that was _supposed_ to be over with nearly a week and a half ago.

Rukia cursed her fate. Why did her immune system have to take a vacation now instead of building up for the coming winter? Still, the damn cold was light; the fever had gone away the day she had gotten it—mostly due to House of Wong's famously medicinal chicken noodle soup—but the sniffles and the headaches had decided to stay on for almost a week longer. Nasty little bastards.

Yet, cold and all, it was Saturday, and since she didn't have any work to do she was going to spend it shopping with Momo. She needed a new dress for the fancy announcement party Aizen was having and Momo wanted to look at plates to use for the rehearsal dinner.

Rukia hitched her purse onto her shoulder and began to thumb through the dresses again. She saw something with a high neck and passed it over. Although she didn't really want to admit it she knew that Momo was right, about the dresses, that is.

These stuffy business types, especially the older ones, liked their women. Young women, to be especially precise. Half of the men she did business with, by the time they were fifty five, had divorced the person they married when they were young and remarried a woman who was at least thirty five years their junior.

_They're barely old enough to drive,_ Rukia thought sourly.

She knew what drew in men like that: tits and ass, that's what. She wrinkled her nose and fought off a sneeze. Guys like that disgusted her; they had more money and power than they knew what to do with, they were typically fat, ugly, and old but drew in whore after money-grubbing whore. She shuddered; she couldn't imagine having so little respect for yourself that you'd be willing to trade your dignity for a couple hundred dollars.

_They should just get jobs,_ Rukia thought, shaking her head. _Oh well, that's the way the world works though. Nothing I can do about it._

After nearly thirty minutes of searching, futility, and attempting to ease the flow of snot coming out of her nose Rukia stopped. She pulled out a small dress and blinked at it twice.

It was black and shining beautifully. The silk was light and feathery and it shimmered whenever she adjusted it. She turned the dress on the hanger and felt her breath whoosh out from her throat. The front was a scoop neckline but it wasn't just one bolt of fabric; the neck was made of several draped lines and patterns. She flipped it in her hands and her eyes widened. The back was nearly nonexistent. The straps were placed precariously on the shoulders and then the rest of it plunged downward until the hemline landed directly above her ass. She gulped loudly before she clutched it to her chest and turned to Momo.

"I'm trying this one on." She whispered squeakily, although the decibel level of her voice might have something to do with the phlegm stuck in her throat. She showed Momo the color of the fabric, but not the actual dress, and swallowed. "Try and find a pair of shoes and a purse to match this color please." Her voice was breathless and she dashed into the fitting room while Momo ran to the other side of the store, where hundreds of shoes and purses were on display.

Rukia shut the door to the fitting room and hung up her purse immediately. She'd never tell anyone but shopping for clothing was one of her favorite things to do. She just adored going into nice places, finding gorgeous clothing, and putting them on and feeling like a princess. Normally this sensation was only brought on by dresses and extremely fancy clothing but it occasionally occurred with a nice business suit.

Self-denial and fierce resolve were basically the only two things that saved Rukia from becoming a full-out shop-a-holic. She just told herself that if she wanted to retire by forty she'd actually need a fat bank account rather than a completely outdated—yet elegant—wardrobe.

Rukia tore off her sports jacket, skirt, heels, and even her brazier—even though it was Saturday she had to dress nicely to actually get into a place like this—and removed the dress from the hanger. Goosebumps were sent down her arms as she slipped the silk over her entire form. It fit her body like a glove… a perfect, beautiful, shimmering, glove.

She turned in the mirror and blushed softly at the sight of her milky white, flawless, back exposed to her waiting eyes. Her gaze followed the line of her spine and she grinned at the sight. She twirled around to the front and smoothed her hands over the fabric. It felt like she was moving her fingers through butter. The length of the dress was also fantastic. It was enough to cover her feet and but not enough to be dragging three inches onto the ground.

"Rukia!" Momo cried from beyond the door. Rukia stopped admiring herself long enough to ask for the shoes, grab them, and slip them on. She smirked at the strapped, heeled, shoes and slipped them onto her feet. There was the added bonus that these heels made her about an inch taller. That should be good for any dancing that needed to be done.

"Are you coming out?" Momo called anxiously.

Rukia grinned, took one more moment to admire her gorgeous appearance, and opened the door. She stepped out in a flourish and grinned like a schoolgirl.

Momo gasped and Rukia—mid-twirl—saw her hands fly to her mouth. She swirled the dress around once more with her hands for emphasis and took a princess step forward. She wasn't sure how gorgeous she looked with flushed cheeks, less-than-needed makeup, and a Rudolph-the-Red-Nose-Reindeer snout but in this dress she felt like a goddess.

"Oh… my… god," Momo whispered softly. A huge grin was plastered onto her face and her legs were jiggling as though she felt the need to jump up and down. "It's perfect Rukia!"

"I know!" She squealed—yes, Rukia Kuchiki actually squealed—and then sighed softly. "This is perfect." She showed Momo the back and raised her eyebrows slightly. "See? You see the back? It's a bit sexy but not too much."

Momo bit her bottom lip and nodded. "I don't know Rukia; it looks pretty sexed-up to me." She shook her head and Rukia wondered if Momo thought she was going to change her mind about the dress. That was an absolute no. Rukia had fallen in love with this outfit the moment she saw it. And if there was one thing she believed in it was love at first sight… when it came to clothing and jewelry, that is.

"I'm buying it." She said forcefully. "And these shoes too. Did you find a purse?"

Obediently, Momo thrust a tiny silk bag, which matched the fabric color of her new dress, into her hands. It had a wrinkled yet patterned exterior and a small silver clasp on the front. Rukia grinned hugely and took care not to wipe her dripping nose on anything she was about to purchase. She dashed into the dressing room, gently took off the dress, hastily put back her clothes, and checked to make sure she didn't look like a vagrant.

She pulled herself out of the dressing room and tightened her ponytail. Momo was waiting for her outside, holding her precious shoes and purse. She jumped to attention as Rukia came out and fixed her collar.

"Are you sure you're not going to go?" She asked her friend softly. "I thought that Toshiro was going to the big event too?"

"Oh he invited me," she said breezily, "But I don't really want to go, Toshiro's better with all that business-y and schmooz-y stuff than me. I'd probably embarrass him or something."

"I'm sure you wouldn't." Rukia assured her even though she was quiet sure that Momo would have a ninety eight percent chance of saying something utterly stupid should she actually go to this particular event.

"I told Shiro that I was going to work out the seating plan for the rehearsal dinner and the wedding." She shrugged, "And I know that you'll tell me all about it the next day."

"You know it," Rukia replied.

"Even though you won't tell me anything about why the party is actually being _thrown_." Momo muttered sourly. "I can't believe that it's so top secret, even though everyone's already been invited. Don't they think that's weird? I mean, _I_ wouldn't want to go to a party where I didn't know what I was celebrating."

"What about a surprise party?" Rukia inquired as she gave the attendant the dress, shoes, and the purse. She told them exactly how she wanted them wrapped—much to the annoyance of the stuffy attendant—and passed them her platinum credit card.

"Only if you're the supris_ee_, not the supris_er_." Momo reasoned logically. "But everyone else is basically in on the surprise. So that doesn't count."

"Well," Rukia thought, "I bet that everyone who was invited to the party knows the reason why it's being held. Investors, big-wigs, fat businessmen, a few of my colleagues, people like that. They should definitely know, even though the _event_ was supposed to be kept locked up tight." Rukia frowned and placed the newly spent card back into her wallet. "I wonder if my brother will be there."

"Oh wow," Momo muttered, "That would be a bit uncomfortable."

"Tell me about it," Rukia sighed, she took her bags and moved towards the door. The attendants waved them goodbye and told them to come again but Rukia ignored them. "I'd be expected to actually talk to him at some point in the evening, and that would just be… _hard_."

"Yeah," her friend agreed, "I'd bet on that. I met your brother once and I couldn't stand to be around him for a few minutes. He might look like a model but he's freaky scary. All quiet and… and… _frigid;_ I guess that would be the right word. You'll have to be around him for a while and actually converse." Momo frowned at her and then asked, "Hey, what _do_ you guys talk about?"

"We don't talk," Rukia replied, "However, when a phone conversation is penciled in we talk about business, how my job is going, how I can improve my life, and when I'm going to produce an heir to the Kuchiki Family fortune."

Momo, who had just opened the bottle of water she always kept inside of her purse, nearly dropped the thing she turned around so fast. "_What_?"

"I made up the last part," she muttered, smirking at the way Momo reacted. "Well, sort of, he doesn't say it but I know he wants to ask." She shrugged her shoulders, "I mean, I'm almost twenty seven years old, to him, I should have been married five years ago. He was married to my sister when he was twenty five and she was nineteen."

"How old were you?"

"Six."

"So he's forty five?" Momo mused softly. "And he's never remarried. When did you sister die again?"

"When I was eighteen." She said, "Byakuya was thirty six."

"Wow," Momo whispered, "Nine years. In a way it's kind of sad but it's also kind of sweet." She turned to her friend and frowned, "But do you honestly think he'd choose someone for you to marry?"

Rukia shrugged, "Honestly? Sometimes I think he goes through a list of possible husbands for me before he goes to bed, you know, rich trust-fund whiners in their thirties or whatnot. The type of guy you'd marry only for family prestige. I wouldn't really put it past him to choose one of them for me."

Momo looked like she was going to choke on her own saliva. Rukia raised an eyebrow at her over-zealous reaction but wondered if it had something to do with her own upcoming wedding. "Is that still _legal_?" She gaped.

"Oh sure," Rukia said, "But it doesn't mean that I'm going to accept. I'm my own legal guardian, I have my own means of support, and I'm not _technically _a Kuchiki blood relative so I have the right to refuse him."

Momo let out a long, satisfied, breath. "Thank God, I would just hate the thought of you marrying someone you didn't love."

Rukia wanted to snort at the idea of love but kept it to herself. "Yeah well, if you ever have kids and I don't, I'll make sure that Auntie Rukia wills them all of her money."

Momo gave her a sly grin and snickered lightly. "Auntie? What are you talking about Auntie for?"

"Well," Rukia bristled, "I might act like an aunt and all even though I'm not technically related to you."

"I didn't mean that Rukia," Momo teased as she hopped around on the sidewalk, "I mean you're going to be their _godmother_, not Auntie."

Rukia scowled hard and wrinkled her nose. "I suppose I should feel honored or something, right?"

"Yes… yes you should." Momo looped her arm into Rukia's unoccupied one and the two began happily walking down the street. "Come on, I need a Saturday of shopping. Let's go get some lunch."

"Fine," Rukia grumbled, "But tomorrow we're running harder than ever."

Momo just sighed and said it would be worth it.

-!!-

Ichigo sat with his father and his sisters, ignoring them calmly, munching on a spinach omelet puff, and watching the tiny snack kiosk with interest.

Oh that and he was thinking about how soft Rukia Kuchiki's face was.

The spinach-omelet puff melted on his tongue and he swallowed it happily. Even something as weird as a spinach omelet puff was good when Yuzu made it. He reached for another one and had to fight Karin for the particular puff. He gave it to her in the end and his fingers found a cinnamon streusel puff instead. He bit into it and a small amount of sugar fell onto his shirt. He wiped it off while Isshin accused him of letting himself go. Ichigo had to make a biting remark about Isshin's figure and toss a rock at his head before he could get any peace.

His gaze returned to the kiosk and he glanced at his wristwatch. He wondered if she would be showing up again. It had been nearly three weeks since he had seen her in only a sports bra and a pair of running shorts. He must have missed her in the last few Sundays because he knew that she would rather cut off her own finger than miss a Sunday run with that friend of hers, Momo Hinamori. Especially when the bride-to-be depended on Rukia to keep her on her special diet and workout regiment.

He coughed lightly in his throat and paid more attention to the man who was currently dishing out an array of ice cream cones to a batch of kids. Ichigo sighed and looked longingly at the dripping, sweet, chilly, treat. It was nearly one hundred degrees outside and he could feel that it was only going to get hotter. He wondered wistfully if Rukia would be once again without her shirt, just for the hell of it. Probably not, if anything she gave it to Momo, who would be complaining about the heat of course. She would probably even start crying. Maybe Ichigo should make some sort of internal bet on it.

He groaned softly and pulled the collar of his shirt away from his skin. "God it's hot." He grunted angrily.

"Ichigo," Karin scoffed, "Just take your shirt off. Everyone else is doing it."

"Yes my son!" Isshin sang, ripping his own shirt off of his gorilla chest, "I'm doing it too! We can have a shirtless picnic party!" He flexed his muscles like a professional body-builder, even though he had only a fraction of the muscle. Ichigo had to look away before he threw up.

Then Karin decided to chime in. "I'm sure half-naked chick would enjoy it."

He glared down at his obstinately annoying sister and growled, "Her name is Rukia Kuchiki and for the billionth time, her being half-naked is none of your business."

Karin paused and slowly turned her head back to her brother. Her eyebrows were furrowed softly and her mouth was twisted into a grimace. "Wait a sec… Kuchiki? How do I know that name?"

"Her brother is Byakuya Kuchiki," Ichigo told them all. Even his father and Yuzu chimed in to listen. He rolled his eyes and groaned. He wanted to be looking for Rukia in peace, not talking to his family while she might be walking by at any minute.

Ichigo nearly choked at how eager he sounded just to get a look at Rukia. He cringed inwardly and passed a hand over her face. His family glanced on in curiosity but Ichigo remained silent. He didn't like how he was acting. It was crazy. He did like being fixated on one particular person, especially a woman. He never got like this when it came to the opposite sex.

Actually, the last time he had been this attentive of one single person was when he mildly stalked a rock star. This was different though… this was weird.

He told himself that it was only a tiny guilty pleasure. So what? Rukia Kuchiki had a nice form, so what if he liked to look at her—and occasionally imagine her—dressed in rather tight, skimpy, clothing? He was just a man who liked to appreciate her rather fine body.

It was just a fantasy. Nothing more and nothing less… and it definitely wouldn't go any further than that.

"Byakuya Kuchiki is he owner of the Kuchiki Corporation," Ichigo continued after a moment of silence, "He has the biggest weapons defense contract in the entire country resting in his palm."

"Oh," Karin muttered, "Yeah, I remember him. In my government class we had to do a project on a prominent member of Karakura society and this dude in my class did that Kuchiki person."

"Who did you do your report on Karin?" Yuzu asked politely.

She shrugged, "I don't remember."

Ichigo sighed and turned his head back to the kiosk. He shook his head at his family and stood up from the pack. He quickly took off his shirt and tossed it back onto the blanket. Karin wrinkled her nose at the sweaty fabric that Ichigo tossed very close to her. He dug his wallet out of his pocket and said to his family. "Do you guys want ice cream or something?"

Karin screamed yes, Isshin tried to attack Ichigo for insulting Yuzu's cooking once again, and Yuzu looked woefully at her small basket of food.

Ichigo dodged his father and groaned. "Yuzu, your food is delicious but it's like one thousand degrees outside. I just thought something cool would be nice, that's all." He narrowed his eyes and kicked his father in the stomach when he tried to get up from the ground.

"I want chocolate," Karin told him.

"Make it two!" Yuzu chipped in, her mood completely changed because of her brothers explanation.

"I want p-pis-tachio!" Isshin wheezed from his place in the fetal position.

"Got it," he said and turned to the kiosk.

As he walked down the small hill to the little stand Ichigo couldn't help but notice how the stares were drawn towards him. They mainly came from women but he couldn't help but notice that there were also quite a few from men—especially the men who carried tiny dogs on studded leashes and wore shirts with popped collars. He stuffed his hands into his pockets and smirked his famous smirk. He grinned as one woman—while walking beside her husband and holding her wiggly toddler in her hands—stopped on the path and followed his progress with her eyes and body.

Ichigo couldn't help it if he looked good. Well, good might be a bit of an understatement. In all honesty, he looked a bit… dangerous. Muscles weren't the only things on his chest. He also had a rather impressive amount of scars and bruises decorating his skin. What everyone around him didn't know was that he boxed and did a style of mixed martial arts with a psychopath whenever he could. Zaraki Kenpachi never held anything back when he and Ichigo fought together. Ichigo had to even go to the emergency room four times for fractured bones. The bastard had even cut him a few times when he went crazy and brought a folding chair into the ring.

Ichigo shook his head when he remembered that time. He had knocked the guy out with an uppercut to the chin and ran out of the training room as fast as he could. He knew that if he stayed Zaraki would wake up and go at him again. Chair included.

A few kids who were standing in front of him at the stall turned around, saw him, and immediately ran to their parents.

"Little punks," Ichigo muttered as he stepped up to the front.

"Hello," the kind man said and Ichigo nodded in acknowledgement.

"Hey, I'll have two chocolates, a pistachio, and a strawberry." He told him, fishing the money out of his wallet and putting it on the counter.

"Cones or cups?"

"Cups," he sighed, "It'll melt too fast."

"Coming right up."

-!!-

"You can do it Momo! Don't give up!" Rukia called out to her friend, who was currently lagging about fifteen feet behind her. She turned her head back to the front and glimpsed an opening in the trees. Rukia's body filled with heady elation as she prepared to finish her first run. With a final burst of speed she bolted out, her feet crunched hard into the gravel, and her teeth bit into the bottom of her lip. The sun hit her full force as she exited the shadows of the trees and gasped in relief. Her heart was pounding hard in the center of her chest and she immediately doubled over. Her skin was tingling and felt fresh in the baking heat.

"Ah!" She cried. She immediately switched positions and began stretching her lithe limbs. She pulled her hands over her head and leaned backwards. She felt her spine extend and she giggled lightly at the tickling feeling.

She turned around and grinned happily at Momo. She shouldn't have looked so content though, not when Momo was so red in the face she looked like she could fade into a tomato patch and never be noticed again. She was gasping hard for breath, jerking hard on her knees, clutching her chest, and coughing up phlegm.

"You'll be alright," Rukia said in a chipper tone. "Come on, we've still got one more lap to go."

Momo's arms flailed and she desperately clawed for Rukia's arm. Rukia raised an eyebrow and noticed that she had never heard anyone ever breathe that hard. She narrowed her eyes and stared at her friend's face. Wait a second, were her lips turning _blue_?

"Good lord Momo," she laughed, "Breathe. Remember, what doesn't kill you makes you stronger and hotter."

Momo was bent down double, one hand on her knee and one hand on Rukia's arm. Her nails were cutting into her skin and Rukia winced slightly. "Momo, come on, it's not that bad."

"Waaaah-ter," she gasped.

"Alright, alright," Rukia sighed, irritated through and through. She didn't know why Momo was being so dramatic. So it was a little hot, so what? She didn't have to act like she was dying. Actually, Rukia thought the heat felt refreshing. While she preferred the winter seasons she wasn't going to deny that she liked the sensation of sweat running down her back and stomach. It made her feel like she just accomplished something great.

"I'll be right back," she smiled, "You just stay right here." She pried Momo's hand off of her arm and brought her to the nearest tree. She propped her friend against it and practically skipped off to their water stand. She stepped out from the rest of the trees and happily dug three dollars out from her shorts. She prided herself on always buying exercise shorts with little pockets. She didn't want to always hand the kiosk man dollars that were sticky with sweat; that was just gross.

She yanked the three dollars into the sun and smoothed them out. Today was a good day, it was sunny, birds were singing, a light breeze was ruffling through the trees, her cold was completely gone, she was running, and when she got home she was going to treat herself to a nice lunch. Maybe she'd order out or even try to cook something. It might be futile but she always liked a challenge.

She was about to come up and place three dollars on the counter of the kiosk when she looked up and stopped in her tracks. Her eyes grew wide and round, her body stood stock still, the muscles in her neck froze, and she couldn't… look… away.

"Oh. My. _God._"

No, that wouldn't be an appropriate proclamation. Because he wasn't her god, he was just _a_ god. Ichigo Kurosaki stood at her water kiosk, patiently waiting for the attendant to fill up four cups of ice cream, and tapping one finger onto the counter.

Without his shirt on.

She felt her throat close up and wondered if she was having some sort of allergic reaction. Honestly, her heart wouldn't be beating this fast unless she was being deprived of oxygen and she wouldn't be deprived of oxygen if her throat wasn't closing up and her throat wouldn't be closing up if she wasn't having an allergic reaction to _something_! Maybe a bee stung her because she certainly wasn't having difficulty breathing because Ichigo Kurosaki looked like an Olympic god without his shirt on.

Rukia took two steps back, thankful that he hadn't noticed her yet, and tried to look away. She couldn't though. She just couldn't. Her eyes seemed drawn to him like—_oh this sounds so cheesy_—a moth to the flame.

Ichigo Kurosaki had a fantastic body. Her violet eyes bypassed his face and looked at the impressive breadth of his shoulders. She had to admit that even though she noticed that he had impressive shoulders while he was still clothed in a business suit there was even a better view from this shirtless point. She followed her gaze down his chest and gulped at his arms and pectorals. His muscles were hard and sinewy but he wasn't bulky. He was slim and… and beautiful even. Rukia looked down his body even further. She could see each muscle in his abdomen. He had such an impressive stomach, she was quite sure that if she had to, she could wash clothing on it. There was also a small trail of golden hair etched down the center of his body. Right down to where they disappeared into his shorts. She could even see the small tips of devil horns poking from the top of his waistband.

Rukia felt wetness inside of her mouth and realized she was salivating. Her hand flew up to her mouth and she bit her bottom lip. "Oh my God," she whispered softly. She closed her eyes and drew in a deep, shuddering, breath. She blinked hard and felt a blush creeping onto her face when she realized the she wasn't simply wet because she was sweaty… and this place had nothing to do with her newly completed run.

She was ready to turn around and dash back into the sanctity of the woods when his voice stopped her.

"Rukia?"

She gulped and raised her face just a bit. She made sure to keep her eyes above his collarbone or else she might… her eyes slipped down a bit and she had to bite her lip hard to draw her own attention back to his face. Christ she hoped he thought she was just sunburned and not blushing. No, she definitely wasn't blushing at him. Not because he was standing there… without a shirt… looking completely _hot_.

He smirked and walked towards her. She steeled her muscles and desperately hoped her knees would stop shaking very soon. He stopped only about two feet away from her and she swallowed convulsively.

"W-What are you doing here?" She asked him. She had to fight not to make her voice squeak, although she couldn't do anything about that stupid stammer in the beginning of her question.

He smiled down at her—it was a smile, not one of his normal smirks. What was wrong with him?—and jerked his ridiculously orange had back to the top of the hill. "It's the weekly Kurosaki Family Picnic Day."

Rukia swallowed hard and kept her eyes on his nose. She had to or else she'd stare at his glowing, golden, body—how in the world was he so tan? He couldn't get any sun while wearing suits all the time! Was that even _natural_?

"Oh, you're family is here?" She asked calmly, crossing her arms over her breasts. She was wearing a sports bra and didn't want him to notice anything was, er, _amiss_, with her chest.

"Yeah, my crazy dad, my happy sister, and my sulky sister." He pointed back up to the hill and waved a bit. Rukia followed his gaze and saw that only a little ways away there were three people sitting on top of a hill. One of them was a man in his mid to late forties and two young girls in their early twenties. One of the girls, she had short blond hair and a happy face—or at least, it looked happy from this distance—waved back to her brother. Rukia saw the grown man, Ichigo's father apparently, stare down intently at his son, jerk back in surprise, and then begin to jump up and down. Rukia blinked as she watched him start to run in small circles around his daughters. The girl with the dark hair seemed to be attempting to restrain him while the blond was waving her hands as though trying to make peace.

"They look… interesting," Rukia stated blankly. She raised her eyes as his father was punched in the stomach by the dark-haired girl. He curled into the fetal position and both of Ichigo's sisters turned to them, staring openly.

"Interesting is an understatement." Ichigo admitted disgustedly. "My dad is Isshin, the girl with black hair is Karin, and the one with the blond hair is Yuzu."

"Oh," Rukia said, even though she wasn't exactly sure why Ichigo was telling her this. "That's nice."

He turned to her and smirked, "I would tell you that you'd meet them at a company picnic but my dad was actually banned from coming to them."

"Wow," Rukia said, raising her eyebrows and turning slightly away from the shirtless Ichigo Kurosaki. "What did he do?"

"Set all the picnic tables on fire."

"How did he do that?"

He shrugged. "Even the fire department couldn't figure that out."

"That's… special." Rukia nodded, smirking a bit as well.

He looked around her and frowned. "Where's your friend?"

Rukia instinctively looked back to the trees and wondered if Momo was still standing… or breathing. "Momo? Oh, she's resting back in the trees."

"I'm guessing you're not taking it easy on her."

Rukia scoffed, "Please, it's just a little hot out, it's not like it'll kill her."

He stared pointedly at her and shook his head, "It's nearly one hundred degrees out here."

"Good, the better to sweat out the toxins." She affirmed, crossing her arms a bit tighter around her chest. She looked desperately behind him and noticed that his ice cream was ready. "Oh, looks like your stuff is ready."

He turned back to the counter and nodded. "Thanks," he said to the attendant. He turned back to Rukia, who was not-so-calmly observing the trees above her. He grinned slightly and moved towards his family. "See you tomorrow."

"Yeah," she choked out, "See you."

Only when he was completely out of earshot did Rukia feel she was able to finally let go of her breath. She swallowed hard and pressed a hand against her hammering heart. Her chest felt tight, her face was burning, and her throat was constricted horribly. She felt like a python was wrapping itself around her neck. She came up to the counter and pressed the three dollars onto the surface.

The attendant smiled at her and if he noticed her flustered state he didn't say anything. He frowned and looked around her. "Where is Ms. Momo?"

"Recuperating," Rukia muttered, fanning herself lightly with her hand.

"Oh," he pulled two waters out from an icy cooler and Rukia immediately pressed one to her face. She was burning and she knew it wasn't from the sun. "Ms. Rukia?" She looked back up to him and smiled softly, he grinned back and motioned to the top of the hill with his head. "Do you know that man?"

Rukia swallowed hard and wondered if he really could see how disconcerted she was. "Yeah, I work with him. Why?"

He shrugged and began to flip through a celebrity gossip rag. "It's just that a few weeks ago he came up and asked about you."

Rukia blinked. "Wait, _what_?"

He looked up and nodded, "About… three weeks ago I think, yeah, that was it. He wanted to know Ms. Momo's name. He said he worked with you."

"Yeah, he does but…" Rukia's head clouded for a moment and she swallowed once again. Three weeks ago? He had asked about her back then? Why? He said he—

"Oh," Rukia whispered, "The weekly Kurosaki Family Picnic." She could have smacked herself for being so dense. He had been here all this time? He must have seen her for the past few weeks. Rukia shook her head and grabbed both of the bottles with iron grips. She walked back to the forest with her head filled with questions. No answers came to mind immediately and she realized belatedly that she'd have to wait and ask them to him herself.

She groaned and continued walking back to her possibly-unconscious friend. She didn't like waiting.

-!!-

"And who might that have been, Ichigo?" Yuzu giggled happily as she accepted her chocolate ice cream.

"I already told you," he growled, "It was Rukia Kuchiki, the woman I work with. I had to talk to her about a new file I wanted to start on Monday."

"Sure you did," Karin said, accepting her ice cream cup from her brother with a snicker. "There seemed to be a bit more going on there."

"You should have invited her to come up," Yuzu cheered happily, "I'm sure she'd love my cinnamon streusel puffs."

"Or those spinach ones," Ichigo said, placing his father's pistachio cup in front of his pained face. He was still curled in a ball and wheezing softly. Ichigo wondered exactly _where _Karin had hit him… and was that vomit over there? He shied to the side just in case his sister had any inclinations to punch him south of the border as well. He grabbed up his strawberry ice cream and plopped a spoon inside.

"Don't change the subject Ichigo," Yuzu stated matter-of-factly, "I mean, I think it's pretty obvious that you like her."

"You know," he said thoughtfully, "Once she told me that if the building was burning and she had a chance to save her Chappy the Rabbit mug or me she'd choose the mug." He gave his sister a pointed look and rolled his eyes. "I think I'm safe from her."

"I don't blame her," Karin chimed in, "Chappy is pretty popular and that mug must be a special edition collectible, only a couple hundred of them were made in the early eighties. I don't blame her for wanting to save the cup over you."

Ichigo, Yuzu, and even Isshin turned and blinked at their surly sister. Karin merely shrugged, "What? I had to do a project on a cultural phenomenon in the last five decades. I chose Chappy. Besides… that little rabbit is cute."

"Where are you and what have you done with my sister?" Ichigo demanded through a spoonful of strawberry ice cream.

"Bite me Ichigo," she sniped, "And besides, you can't tell me that that girl wasn't avoiding you _just_ a bit much. She's obviously into you."

"I highly doubt that."

Yuzu smiled softly at him, "And _I'm _sure that you didn't take your shirt off _just_ because it's a bit hot."

"Shut it Yuzu," he mumbled, although he was careful to take all vehemence out of his voice in case his tender sister took offense. "I don't like her and she doesn't like me. It's as simple as that."

"If you say so," she sang.

"I do say so." He shot back.

"Ichigo! Don't yell at your sister!" His father screamed, gently unfolding himself from his painful position.

Ichigo rolled his eyes and sighed.

_And it begins again._

-!!-

"What took you so long?"

Rukia swallowed and just handed Momo—who was lying on the gravel path, completely oblivious to all the people who were jumping over her or the bugs that were currently crawling around inside of her hair—the water bottle and drank from her own. She still found it difficult to swallow given the large obstruction currently blocking her esophagus. She looked down and saw her hand shaking just a bit.

"What's the matter?" Momo asked. She rose slightly in order to take a drink. Her flushed cheeks immediately lessened in redness and she sighed like she had just finished an orgasm. "Thank God!" She cried and began to chug down the rest of the drink.

"Don't get too comfortable," Rukia told her quietly, "We still have another four miles."

Momo plopped back onto the ground, empty bottle in hand, "This trail was designed as a torture mechanism."

"Not really," Rukia sighed, taking a seat on the ground next to her friend. Sure it made it harder for people to jump over the both of them but she simply ignored the dirty looks sent her way. She was Rukia Kuchiki; she didn't bow to anyone…

Especially certain coworkers who just happened to possess very impressive muscular structures.

"I saw Ichigo Kurosaki without his shirt on." She told her friend, her voice was no more than a whisper but she knew that she caught it anyway.

Surprisingly, Momo didn't jump up and start extolling the virtuous features of Kurosaki's supposed—and now confirmed—hotness. Instead she simply turned her head to the side and blinked at Rukia. "And?"

Rukia closed her eyes. Momo had this uncanny ability to know when Rukia needed her to be serious. Most of the time she had to be funny, persuasive, and annoying just to get Rukia to do things that normal, human, twenty-six year old women did. But she always seemed to notice the slight change in Rukia voice, that certain treble in her tone, that told her Rukia needed a serious, contemplative, advice-giving friend. It also helped that she never teased her about these conversations either. Whenever both Rukia and Momo were in serious mode it was almost like doctor-patient confidentiality. Neither one would mention these talks.

Rukia closed her eyes. "I _liked_ it."

Beside her, Momo smiled.

**(A/N: So I hope everyone enjoys this chapter! Yay!**

**I want everyone to know that Odalisque is currently longer than Murder My Heart. MMH is 354 pages on Word and Odalisque has just surpassed it. I feel quite proud of myself. :D Also, I know that I've been updating every Friday or so but I'm leaving for college this coming Thursday. Updates might become more sporadic.**

**I love everyone who has reviewed for my fic! Thank you so much! It's the reason why authors write! PLEASE REVIEW, REVIEW, and REVIEW!)**


	15. Chapter 14

**Disclaimer: I do not own Bleach or any Bleach affiliates.**

_**Odalisque**_

**Chapter 14**

Today had been terribly awkward.

When Kurosaki first entered the office Rukia could not help but be assaulted by images of him wearing only a pair of shorts and sneakers. She couldn't even think of a proper _insult_ for him she was that distracted. So instead she had just swallowed, ignored his usual 'Good morning Sunshine' comment, and busied herself with the contents of a new file.

He had made a few quips at her and while she had tried to fire them back at him with her usual accuracy and spitefulness she just couldn't do it. She had tried very hard too; it was on the verge of upsetting her. She just couldn't seem to get that unsettling image out of her head. Rukia gulped down a cup of scalding hot coffee and tried not to choke on it.

"You alright Kuchiki?" He demanded.

"Just fine," she sniped back. She pressed a hand to her cheek and told herself that it was just the coffee that was making her face go all hot. Still, it didn't stop her from wanting to cry on the inside. She hated feeling like this. She desperately loathed feeling a stirring in her lower stomach every time she looked at Kurosaki. She detested feeling her underwear grow damp against her skin when she dwelled on his half-naked image—which was currently posted all over the inside of her brain—for too long. And she absolutely despised having to wear a sports jacket all day just to hide her rather prominent nipples from protruding out of her white blouse.

"You don't seem fine," he sneered.

"I'm perfectly alright," she practically shouted and he raised an eyebrow at her.

"Are you sure your fever didn't come back?" He asked skeptically.

Rukia's mind shot back to when his hands had massaged her face. How good it had felt… how happy she had been… how she had practically melted into her chair…

"I'm positive," she ground out. She stood up and passed him a file. "We need to work on this one today."

He took it from her with barely an argument. Rukia turned her head away before she could see his eyes rake over her body. She simply swallowed and continued on her way.

A few moments passed by before either of them spoke again. Rukia sipped her coffee and studied the papers in front of her while Kurosaki tapped his pen on his desk and stared out the window.

"So," he said, "Do you have a date?"

Rukia choked on her coffee and ended up spewing it three feet in every direction. "_What_?"

Kurosaki turned to her and raised one eyebrow, the knowing smirk on his face unnerved her more than anything but she forced an impassively cool glare to become fixated in her eyes. She stared him down while he shook his head and laughed. "For the announcement party. Christ, what did you think I meant?"

The blush that appeared on Rukia's face forced her to turn her head away immediately. "I don't know what I thought you meant." She answered him shortly. "And no, I don't have a date."

Her mouth went completely dry as she thought of the implications of his question. Was he—was he… _asking_ her because he—

_No! Don't you dare go there! I don't think like that. Kurosaki is your sworn enemy and just because he might look good without a shirt on doesn't mean that you want to go to the announcement party with him. You'd rather strangle him. Remember that. The coffee spill, the child's desk, making you look like a fool in front of Aizen, and all the comments, sneers, and insults. Remember those damn it!_

Kurosaki was looking at her expectantly. She blinked twice and pulled herself out of her internal pep-talk mode. "What did you say?" She asked calmly.

He shook his head and continued tapping his pen on his desk. "You do know what you thought I meant," he pointed out, "You have a brain. And my second question is, why not?"

"Why not as in why don't I have a date?" Rukia asked more forcefully than she should have.

He nodded. Rukia cleared her throat and turned her nose up at him. "I prefer to go to these functions alone. The fact that I don't have anyone to look after makes doing business that much easier."

"Oh," he said, "That's weird. Some people bring dates so they can have someone to save them from all the business types there." He shrugged and leaned back in his chair. "I don't know, do you think we'll have to make a speech or something?"

"Of course," she told him, "I already have it written. I also have a release we can give to the press."

He rolled his eyes, "You don't waste any time do you?"

"Not when I do my job."

"Oh well, less for me to do then."

"What about you?"

Rukia bit her lips the moment that statement escaped from them. She felt like beating herself with a metal club for saying such a thing. Why should she care if he was bringing a date? She didn't… she didn't! Rukia felt that infernal blush coming up on her cheeks once again. She propped a file up to hide her burning face and tried to slap herself at the same time.

Kurosaki stayed silent for a minute before saying, "I haven't decided yet. I suppose I could always find someone to bring… but I'm not sure I will."

Rukia, only when she was sure that her face wasn't on fire anymore, pulled her head out from the file and gave him a condescending glare. "Yes, I'm sure that anyone in your slew of female followers would love to go the party with you."

"You mean the ones who gave me communal diseases?" He muttered dryly.

Rukia smirked when she recognized her own insult coming from his lips. She nodded and said, "Yes, one of those girls. Although you might have to explain the _big_ words to them when they get confused."

"Ooh, how big?" He sneered.

"I'd say anything that was more than five letters long." She gave him a sympathetic smirk and shook her head as though she were in pain.

He merely growled at her and turned back to his computer. Rukia drew in a deep breath and exhaled slowly. She was glad that her sharp wits had returned. She had panicked for a while that he'd make her brain go numb whenever she was in his presence. But no, he was just like Novocain; his effect on her wore off after a while. She rolled her shoulders softly and felt her face return to its normal temperature. After another moment of steady breathing she decided that she could continue to do this. Sooner or later the image of him half-naked would fade out of her head. She'd forget and everything would be perfectly fine afterwards. She could continue to insult him, aggravate him, and annoy him like it was any other day.

She tossed her head to one side and then the other before turning to her laptop and getting to work.

After nearly an hour of steady working, silence, and not once thinking about Kurosaki without a shirt Rukia picked up one particular file and frowned. There was a discrepancy in the earnings from Suigetsu Inc. and the money being brought into the company from about two years ago. She frowned slightly and looked over the entire document twice before looking up. "Hey Kurosaki, come over and look at this will you?"

He raised his head and blinked. "What is it?"

"There's something wrong with the records." Rukia told him as he got up from his chair. "This column shows the earning from Suigetsu and this column has how much was funneled into the actual company. These variations here show how much was given out to investors and such but if you look at the numbers… there's still a fair chunk missing."

Kurosaki came up from behind her and leaned over her entire body. Rukia's face immediately flushed when she felt his chest pressing into her shoulder. She swallowed hard when she saw both hands pushing against the top of her desk. He was practically trapping her between his arms. His head was level with hers and she could see, out of the corner of her eyes, the firm line of his jaw and even the outline of his lips.

Yet while she was studying the contours of his face he was staring at the document in front of her. He exhaled through his nose and Rukia felt it rush onto her shoulder. She had to suppress a small shudder when the image of him half-naked popped back into her head.

"There," he said and she jerked herself out of the ridiculous reverie she had been enthralled in. She had to blink a few times to focus her sight on the document while her nose was thoroughly assaulted by his spicy scent. "You see, it went to an experimental department that didn't exactly pan out. That's why the records are weird."

"Oh," she squeaked, she was finding it hard to breathe with him standing so close to her. "Thanks." Rukia said, she turned her head to the side in order to actually look at him and thank him—which was proper etiquette, technically—and her heart literally stopped beating.

Her lips, which were slightly open, instead of finding blank air, found the soft side of his face. She froze, he froze, and neither of them seemed to be breathing. Rukia could feel her face heating until it was practically volcanic.

_Oh my God… this isn't happening._

Through the fog of horror, embarrassment, and terror, she actually noticed things about him. His cheeks were incredibly smooth and smelled terrific, a mix of aftershave and something else, something amazing. Rukia could practically feel her eyes rolling into the back her head. Her entire body was buzzing at the sight, smell, and even the—the—oh Christ the taste of him. Finally, after nearly a minute of ceasing all types of inhalation, she sucked in a large breath.

That seemed to trigger something inside of him. His body was no longer rigidly standing over hers. His muscled form seemed relaxed. He still hadn't moved away from her though. Rukia's lips were still resting on his cheek.

Panic set in her chest when she realized she was still too frozen to move. _This is ridiculous!_ She screamed inwardly, _just move!_ But she couldn't. She just couldn't. It was like she had been frozen by some type of otherworldly force.

Then he moved.

The panicking signals in the pit of her stomach began to shriek when she realized that he wasn't moving _away_, he was just moving! Rukia's lips slid against the rest of his cheek until they reached the side of his lips. Terror overtook her entire body when her mouth was finally directly in front of his. Her eyes were wide and horrified, his, which were staring directly into hers, were just as open but not nearly as wide and certainly not laced with the same type of horror. They weren't even technically doing anything. Neither one of them was moving. They just… stayed.

Rukia saw his eyes slide down just a bit, fractionally, nanometer by nanometer. Dread flooded her limbs when she felt him press his lips just a bit harder onto hers. Rukia could feel herself trembling. She couldn't deny it. She was afraid. But it wasn't because she was afraid of being kissed. She just…

She _wanted_ him to kiss her. That thought alone scared her more than anything else in the world.

He had just settled his mouth completely against hers and closed his eyes entirely when Rukia regained control of her body.

She jerked away and sent her chair spinning towards the wall. Ichigo's—_no, it's Kurosaki! Kurosaki damn it_—arm was hit with the impact and he yelped in pain. Rukia, on the other hand, couldn't be bothered to notice. She was out of her chair so fast her body was merely a blur.

"I have to go to the bathroom," she mumbled and threw open the door. She stepped out into the hallway and desperately reminded herself that this was a business corporation. She couldn't let anyone see her like this. She turned towards the elevator and walked quickly, her head was held high even though she wanted to bury it deeply into the carpeted floor, she didn't meet anyone's eyes but that was normal for her anyway. She jammed the button for the elevator and waited until it came to her floor.

She tried to take in a steady breath but it wouldn't come. Her knees shook as though she was in the middle of an earthquake. Her heart was pounding hard in her chest and she could feel her face burning hotter than ever.

The elevator came up and she stepped inside. She would take an early lunch. She needed to talk to Momo.

Now.

-!!-

"Rukia," Momo rose from her desk chair and blinked in confusion. "What's going on? Is something the matter?" She paused for a minute and then frowned, "Why do you look like you just got hit in the head with a tomato?"

Rukia didn't speak as she grasped Momo's arm and tugged her inside of her old office. She opened the door and shut it quickly behind them. Momo's heel was almost caught in the jamb she was that eager.

She looked around the room and noticed the dust floating around with distaste. Even in her rather distressed state of mind she still would have to make a note to call maintenance and make sure that they properly cleaned her office. Rukia pulled her hand to her face and bit her forefinger in between her teeth. She tried to breathe normally but she couldn't help the shudder that ran down her spine. Her lips were still tingling. She quickly withdrew her finger from its position and wiped the back of her hand over her mouth.

"Rukia," Momo said, her voice was laced with worry this time instead of slight mirth, "What in the world is going on? Why are you acting so weird?"

She swallowed hard and wished she had her coffee maker in this office. She wished she had her desk to lean on and she wished she had her chair to sink into… or weep pathetically into, either one would be fine.

"Stupid, stupid, stupid!" She hissed angrily, "How could you be so stupid?" She brought her hands to her head and pressed both of them against her head, pushing inwardly from both sides.

"What? Who?" Momo took two steps forward and placed one hand on her shoulder. "Rukia, who are you talking about?"

"Me!" She moaned, she bent forward and pressed her eyes shut tightly. "I did something stupid. It was me. Arg!" She lashed out and kicked her foot against the wall.

"Whoa," her friend murmured, "It must be bad."

"I kissed Kurosaki," she groaned, placing her hands over her eyes and breathing in very unsteadily. "At least, I think I did."

She hazarded a glanced over at her friend. Momo's mouth was open completely, her eyes were wide, and her nose—for some reason—was twitching. Why was her nose twitching? Did she need to sneeze or something?

She didn't.

"You did _what_?" She shook her head softly and held up a hand, stopping any response Rukia would have made, "No, no, wait a minute… how can you _think_ you kissed someone? It's either you did or you didn't, there is no in between."

"Well it was!" Rukia cried desperately. She cringed inwardly at the tone of her own voice. Desperate? When had she ever been desperate about anything? Okay, maybe there was that one time in third grade but that had been really excellent cake and all she wanted was another nibble and—

"Shit!" She cursed and Momo jumped.

"This can't happen." She snarled angrily. "I won't let it. I will not fall victim to that lazy, womanizing, arrogant, orange-headed _punk_ who thinks he's smarter than I am. I won't let him!"

"Rukia, you can't help who you're attracted to—"

"Don't even finish that statement!" Rukia barked. "I am _not_ attracted to him. He might have a great body but he's still just as ugly and as vulgar as he was when I first met him."

"Wait, back up for a minute." The raised eyebrow Momo sent in her direction made her feel extremely uncomfortable. "What do you mean he has a great body? _When_ exactly did you see all of his body?" She crossed her arms over her chest and for one small minute Rukia felt like a cowering Catholic school girl being reprimanded by a nun. "Did you two do more than just kiss?"

"_No_! And it was that time in the park I told you about. _Just_ without his shirt. Nothing else was missing!" She exploded, now feeling a familiar sensation of panic creeping inside of her stomach. She swallowed convulsively and tried to force the feeling to go back down but it wouldn't. "I didn't do anything! I just asked him a question and he was standing too close and I might have moved my head and my mouth might have brushed his cheek."

"Might have?"

"Okay, they did," she groaned and stomped a foot on the floor. "But then he moved his head and then we almost kissed and I—I…"

Momo stared at her expectantly. "You…?"

Guilt and shame passed over Rukia's features. "Ran… away. Here."

Before she could do anything else, Momo came up, raised her hand, and smacked the side of her head.

"Ow!" She recoiled, "Why did you do that?" She demanded.

"Because you're an idiot!" She screeched. "You _almost_ kissed one of the finest men on the planet and you decide to run away! I thought you were Rukia Kuchiki, not some tittering school girl all weirded out by playing a little bit of tonsil hockey!"

"I wasn't weirded out or anything." Rukia muttered unhappily. "I was… I don't know…" _Scared._

If Rukia would have looked over at her friend she would be sure to see her jaw on the floor. She didn't, however, have the guts to look up.

"Wow," she breathed. "I can't believe you. You see him _once _without his shirt and all of a sudden he's carrying the bubonic plague. Even though you actually _liked _how he looked sans shirt."

"I know… but I had to look away. If I didn't…" She looked up and gave a pathetic, pouting, look to her friend and groaned pitifully. "He must do some sort of… I don't know, but he's _cut_. I just—I c-can't."

"If he were a mix of celebrities who would he be?" Momo asked, as if Rukia's answer was of enormous importance.

"I can't even pick them. It doesn't compare."

"You mean he," Momo pointed out, "_He_ doesn't compare."

"No," she shook her head stoutly, "He is just an it, he is nothing to me therefore I call him it, and you know, if it happens to look nice then that's just fine. He is sexless to me."

Momo stared at her dubiously with a hint of mirth glimmering inside of her eyes. Rukia glared back at her and groaned half in irritation and half in anger. "Don't go there Momo, _please_."

"Fine," she held up her arms in surrender and shook her head, "Just so long as you know what I'm thinking."

Rukia sighed, folded her legs, and sat on the floor. Momo, even though she was no doubt quite surprised by the act, followed suit and sat on the floor along with her. She casually rested her head on Rukia's shoulder. Rukia, who, for some reason, felt limp and weak, leaned her head to the side as well. Her head rested atop of Momo's and she sighed heavily.

They stayed like that for a few minutes. Momo rubbed Rukia's back slowly and comfortingly. The navy blue of their clothing melted together with the teal of the carpet and their shoes clicked together harmlessly.

After a moment Rukia lifted her head and whispered. "I was scared, Momo."

"I know."

"I don't want it to be another… _him_."

"I know."

"I just… he's not the guy for that. And he never will be."

Momo paused for a moment and brushed a strand of hair back into Rukia's ponytail. "He doesn't have to be. Not everyone is like him."

"I know."

"You don't have to keep thinking that every relationship should be for life. Some should just be for fun."

Rukia frowned. "But you and Toshiro—"

"Are the exception," she interrupted. "Trust me, hook ups and one night stands are more frequent these days than engagements."

Rukia scowled at her friend. "I'm not going to hook up with Ichigo Kurosaki." She said sourly.

"Well," Momo mused, tilting her head to the side. "Okay, what if you meet a guy from the site? What if you like him in one way but not the other? There's nothing wrong with having a little fun."

"Fun?" Rukia asked dubiously.

"Orgasmic fun." Momo giggled happily.

"Of course." Rukia sighed, her mood taking a drastic turn south.

"Just don't write off the possibility. 'K?" Momo nudged her side and tried to coax a grin out of her mouth.

Rukia flopped back and stretched out completely on the carpeted floor. "You should have been a therapist, you know that?"

"Yeah," Momo said, lying down with her, "I know."

-!!-

"Uryu, you got a minute?"

"Do I have a choice?"

"No."

"Then come in."

Ichigo opened the door further and stepped into his friend's office. He took care to close it behind him. He had to just make sure; Inoue had seen him walk out of the office shortly after Rukia and he just needed to be certain that she wouldn't come looking for something that wasn't there. Uryu was sitting complacently at his desk and signing off on a couple of documents. Ichigo didn't bother to look at the titles of the pages; he just looked at the countries that were on display.

"Wow, when did we get Sweden?"

"Two weeks ago."

He sat down and shrugged. "Oh."

Uryu scrawled his impeccable signature a few more times before he looked up at Ichigo and scowled. "Did you want something, Kurosaki?"

He glared at Uryu and grumbled, "You took a psyche class in college, right?"

"Yes, I did."

Ichigo squirmed uncomfortably in his seat and wrinkled his nose. "Alright, well, just listen, okay? You could probably figure out what's wrong with me."

"You've finally discovered that you're clinically insane?" Uryu asked, still looking down.

Ichigo did not appreciate the note of hope in Uryu's voice as he said that. "No," he growled, "Just shut up for a minute." He sat further down in the seat and tried to think of what, exactly, he wanted to ask.

"Okay," he began, "Say, hypothetically, of course, that there was this guy. This guy happened to enjoy being with women—"

"You."

Ichigo snapped immediately, "Just listen, okay?"

Uryu shrugged and folded his hands on the top of the desk. "Okay, continue."

"So this guy," Ichigo took in a breath and winced slightly, "Doesn't really like this girl. She's irritating and mean and always gets on his nerves."

"Ms. Kuchiki."

"Shut up!"

"Continue."

"So this guy and this girl," Ichigo ground out, rather flustered by how crass Uryu was acting, but then again, Uryu didn't beat around the bush. "Really dislike each other. But one day, the guy kind of sees the girl in a state of undress."

Uryu raised an eyebrow, "You've slept with Kuchiki? If she tells her brother you're dead."

"I didn't sleep with her," Ichigo snarled, leaving all pretenses behind them. "I saw her working out in only a bra and really short shorts."

"Oh, well then that's so much better," Uryu muttered sarcastically. "Go on."

"And so the guy kind of starts to think about the girl a bit more than he should. Until one day, he kind of… well, accidentally kisses her."

"Accidentally?" Uryu demanded, "How can you accidentally kiss someone? And since when did you kiss? I thought that was one of your rules, you said it was too personal or something."

"It is," Ichigo ground out, "If you kiss a girl during sex there's that sort of emotional connection thing. They start to think about more than just sex. Like relationships and commitment and shit."

Uryu dragged a hand through his hair and then removed his glasses to rub his eyes. "How many times did you watch _Pretty Woman_ as a child, Ichigo?"

"Once, and you had to admit her rules made sense." He shook his head frantically and groaned, "But that's beside the point. Listen, it's just… I was standing too close to her face, and her lips, and she just happened to turn her head."

"Interesting."

"Yeah, but it's just that… I mean, you know my policy. But when we kind of kissed I… wanted to kiss her back." He pulled a hand through his hair and snarled at his own reluctance to say anything. "I really did." He paused for a minute and glared at a random corner of the room. "But I _hate _her. The only thing we really have in common is that we don't really like In—In… ou… oh, sorry, I forgot, you like her."

Uryu's blue eyes became icier than normal. He put his eyeglasses back onto his face and sighed heavily. "Orihime Inoue is a wonderful woman, Kurosaki, it is only unfortunate that she seems to be fixated on you."

"Maybe she wouldn't be so fixated on me if _you_ asked her out." Ichigo pointed out dryly.

Uryu's face reddened to the point where the tips of his ears were the color of cherries. Hell, even the back of his neck was red. His normally pale skin seemed translucent and Ichigo bit back a laugh.

"You've already asked her out." He stated simply.

Uryu looked to the side. Ichigo blinked twice and realized that the look on Uryu's face was the look of shame. He felt a small shrivel of guilt curl up inside of his stomach.

"She said she was interested in someone else." Uryu muttered angrily. He gave Ichigo a cold, hard, withering, glare and pushed his chair back. He walked over to the window using his spindly legs and stuffed his hands inside of his pockets. He stood there, just staring outside, for a good deal of time before he turned back to Ichigo and shook his head. "You could at least tell her you know," he said softly. "Tell her you're not interested in her or something. She shouldn't spend all of this time pining for you when you're interested in Kuchiki."

"I'm not—"

"Yes you are." Uryu snapped. "You are and you're too thick to see it. Just wait, Kurosaki, one day you'll finally snap and do something. I'll wait until then." He turned back to the person inside of the room and glared, "I just think its sad how Ms. Inoue is so fixated on a womanizing pig like you. She doesn't even realize that there's more out there than _just_ you."

"You know Uryu," Ichigo snarled, standing up from his chair and pushing it back in with more force than was necessary. "I've done all I could to try and put her off but she won't listen. Maybe it's not me you should be mad at; maybe you should just be mad at her."

"You're the one who started this whole thing," Uryu grumbled.

"And I'm trying to put a stop to it too," Ichigo said. "But she won't let it go. She just won't." He moved towards the door and pulled it open. He was about to step outside when he stopped, pivoted, and turned back to Uryu, "And I do not have a thing for Kuchiki, she's a demonic dwarf who happens to be slightly attractive. That's it."

"Just keep telling yourself that, Kurosaki." Uryu spat.

"Whatever, just don't be angry that you can't get the girl because she's stuck on me."

Uryu's spine stiffened and his body became lethally rigid. "That was low, Kurosaki."

Ichigo felt low. He'd never tell Uryu that though. He kept up his heated attitude and exited his _friend's_ office in a huff.

He did feel like crap. He had Uryu were friends, not the best or closest of friends but still friends nonetheless. They had their insults and their quips and everything but when worse came to worse they were still, well, there for each other. In the way that guys were there for each other. They were just guys, they'd have beers, go out to _socialize_ with women, and occasionally even go to concerts or business lunches. Just stupid guy things.

Still, Ichigo did feel bad that he acted like such an ass. Uryu had been hung up on Inoue for nearly two years and she barely noticed him because _she_ had been hung up on Ichigo. It was a sick love triangle that had plagued Uryu's heart and Ichigo's patience nearly since Christmas. It wasn't that Ichigo didn't feel for the guy, it was just that he got tired of Uryu continually blaming him. If he had a problem then he should take it up with Inoue, not him; he had made his feelings quite clear.

Inoue was the one who just didn't get it. It wasn't him.

He sighed heavily, shook his head, and headed back to his office.

-!!-

Momo Hinamori—soon to be Momo Hitsugaya—prided herself on having an intuition as sharp as a set of razor blades. Sure, that type of intuition didn't come around too often when it came to practical things like shopping, exercise, or cooking, but when it came to her best friend, she knew exactly what was going on, whether Rukia would admit it or not.

Being best friends with Rukia Kuchiki wasn't the easiest thing in the world. Momo had to weather insults, attacks, anger, doubt, and indifference whenever she was around her. Early on in their relationship she had to figure out when Rukia was being serious and when she was being sarcastic—there was no _joking_ with Rukia, it was either serious or sarcastic. But once she had been schooled in the ways of the tones, words, and epithets her friend used, it was relatively simple to figure out what needed to be done.

In this case, Momo knew what needed to be done.

Rukia always teased her about how she should have become a therapist. In all honesty, she considered herself one. Rukia had more than enough problems for the both of them and Momo knew that if she weren't there to hear them all out Rukia would probably end up combusting during some random board meeting. Plus, she doubted any other therapist would actually take her, she was _far_ too crazy for any _normal_ shrink.

So Momo knew what needed to be done. Even if she knew that Rukia wouldn't be _completely_ receptive to it at first.

As she walked into the building of Suigetsu Incorporated Momo made sure to keep her head down just a bit. She knew that Rukia was still somewhere in Gotei Corp. finishing up a bit of busy work in order to keep herself away from Ichigo Kurosaki but she wouldn't put it past her neurotic friend to check the security videos every now and then. Even if she wasn't looking for anything in particular.

She came to the front desk and politely asked the aged woman working there for the floor where Ichigo Kurosaki worked. The woman, after giving her the eye-roll, told her in a snippy tone of voice. Momo wondered if she should have shown the woman her engagement ring. Surely even the lowly receptionists at Suigetsu must have heard of her fiancé. That would have taken any suspicions off of her being an afternoon prostitute of Kurosaki's.

_Oh well, too late now._ She thought cheerfully as she waited for the elevator to bring her up to the aforementioned floor. She hummed merrily along with the music and grinned. She knew that she was doing the right thing. She had to be.

She stepped outside and a few people glanced at her while she passed. She wondered if it was because she was so happy. She had a type of glow around her that other people just didn't have… she thought it was because of the gigantic rock on her finger and the fantastic wedding she was planning for February. She giggled inwardly and skipped a bit.

"God I love Toshiro," she hummed happily before turning her attention back to her task at hand. She needed to find his office. Oh wait, there was the receptionist.

Momo walked up to the large desk and saw a pretty woman with reddish-orange hair and breasts bigger than cantaloupes sitting in the chair. She was busy reading a gossip magazine but raised her head when she noticed Momo.

"Can I help you with something?" She asked politely. Momo immediately got why Rukia didn't like this woman, this one _Orihime Inoue_; this chick was even bubblier than her… and that was saying something.

"Yes," Momo began, "I'd like you to point me in the direction of Ichigo Kurosaki's office, please."

Wow, Rukia wasn't kidding about that protective glint. It came into her eyes faster than Momo could get Kurosaki's name out. Even her smile flattened just a bit before she was able to reel it back in.

"I could happily give your message to him."

Momo raised an eyebrow and inwardly snorted, this lady was kind of creepy, and it wasn't just the tone of her voice or the look in her eye that made her that way. It was her whole freaking demeanor. Her body was stiff in her chair and it looked as though she seemed absolutely determined to have her way.

So was Momo.

"No, that's alright, you see, my boss, Rukia Kuchiki? Yes, she asked me to deliver this to him _personally_."

"Oh," she giggled lightly, as if that would break the tension between the two of them. "Well I know Rukia, I'm sure she wouldn't mind it if I—"

"But then you see then I wouldn't be doing my job," Momo cut in swiftly. "Ms. Kuchiki asked me to deliver this personally. I wouldn't be a very good secretary if I didn't."

Inoue nodded once and her sharp eyes raked over Momo's casually leaning form. "Well now, that's odd, I didn't know that office secretaries also worked as messenger pigeons."

Momo's smile flat lined. "Rukia also happened to be my best friend. I'm doing her a favor." She leaned in just a bit more and her cobalt eyes hardened threateningly. "Now, the office?" She took careful attention to leave out the word 'please.'

She could see the woman behind the desk grinding her teeth. "Last door on the left. Near the elevator."

"Thank you," she said coldly. "I appreciate it."

She turned and walked away with Orihime Inoue's eyes boring a hole into the center of her back. Momo walked in a straight line and made a ninety degree angle at the office. She opened the door and stepped inside.

Once again, she had to steel herself against the fantastically good looks of Rukia's sworn enemy, even if he was currently bent over a desk and writing on a form. She honestly didn't know how Rukia didn't see it. Ichigo Kurosaki was a freaking fine piece of meat. He was like filet mignon in a slaughterhouse. Or pate de fois gras in comparison to spray cheese.

He was hot.

If she weren't already engaged to the sweetest, handsomest, kindest, best man on the face of the planet she would have jumped him the moment he lifted those honeyed amber eyes to hers.

"Hello!" She smiled and waved her hand. She also made sure to step in and shut the door to the office, just in case that nosy bitch decided to eavesdrop. "In case you don't remember me I'm—"

"Momo Hinamori," he said, standing from behind his desk and moving around it, "Soon to be Momo Hitsugaya, yeah, I remember. You're Rukia's friend." He stuck his hand out and she shook it. She had to suppress a giggle when she felt his firm grip. She could tell already that Rukia had been right. This guy was _cut_.

"Yes, I'm here on Rukia's behalf." She told him in a dignified voice, straightening her shoulders and smiling charmingly.

"Is she… um… okay?" He asked, his voice kind of choking on the last part.

"After you two kind of, sort of, kissed you mean?" She asked happily and she noted that his cheeks tinged a bit pink.

_Oh how cute,_ she squealed inwardly,_ he blushes!_

"No," he said, his voice becoming gruff and hard once again. "Not that, she just ran out of here and I don't know—"

Momo held up a hand, "Save it, she already told me. And besides," she rolled her eyes and dug softly into her pocket. "I'm not that stupid."

"I didn't—"

"I said save it," Momo warned him with a matronly attitude. His mouth snapped shut immediately but the scowl on his face stayed.

She only smiled and passed him a sheet of plain, college-ruled, paper. She handed it over and he took it with uncertain hands.

"What is this?" He asked, unfolding it and staring at the things scrawled on the top. "What are these numbers?" He looked back up at her and set his jaw into a scowl. "Well?"

"You're just as charming as Rukia makes you out to be," she said happily, "You two are so cute."

"We're wha—?"

"Now this," Momo said, interrupting him and pointing at the top number. "Is Rukia Kuchiki's private home number. This one," she moved her hand down to the second number, "Is her cell phone number, and this," she slid it down once again, "Is her personal email."

She took a step away and smiled as though she had just won the lottery.

He held the piece of paper up awkwardly and frowned even harder. "Why… why would you give me these?"

Momo could not believe that these people, who graduated college with honors, who got through law school with top grades, and who worked at fantastically influential companies, could be so fucking blind. She rolled her eyes and groaned at the stupidity of these two arrogant, ignorant, over-achievers.

"Look," she began, speaking as though she was talking to a two year old. "I know it might seem like you hate my boss right now."

"I do hate her." He chimed in with an ugly tone of voice.

"Whatever, the point is that sooner or later, you're going to wish you had these. So just… I don't know, put them on file or something." She shrugged and grinned. "I have a feeling you'll thank me later."

"There's nothing going on between me and Rukia Kuchiki," he spat at her, trying to hand the sheet back to her. "I don't know what would give you the impression that there was."

"I have eyes," she stated obviously. She pushed the paper back into his hand and immediately turned her back on him. She sashayed to the exit and smiled happily. She opened the door and swiveled back once more. "Don't throw those away now! I mean it." She giggled lightly before waving and leaving. She closed the door behind her.

Momo Hinamori—soon to be Momo Hitsugaya—pressed her back against the fake wood and drew in a deep breath. Rukia would kill her if she ever found out about this. She shook her head and tried to convince herself that she had indeed done the right thing. She knew she had. This was, in fact, for Rukia's own good.

She smiled to herself and slowly walked away. She held her head high and she kept her gaze away from that of Orihime Inoue's, who was no doubt watching her. She exited the building in style with a small smile on her face.

What she didn't see was Ichigo Kurosaki standing in the center of the office, staring at the sheet of paper in his hands for a good five minutes before taking it, folding it, and shoving it into the breast pocket of his jacket.

**(A/N: So... I think this is my favorite chapter so far. I know it must have been crazy to read but it was sooo fun to write. A bit more IchiRukiness and Inoue-creepy-ness and Momo-helpfulness. YAY!!**

**I go to college in 12 hours... damn I feel like puking. I'm so nervous. However, I decided to post this chapter as sort of a celebration thing.**

**THANK YOU THANK YOU THANK YOU to everyone who has taken the time to review for this story. I truly appreciate it and squeal whenever I get another comment. So please, CONTINUE TO REVIEW!)**


	16. Chapter 15

**Disclaimer: I do not own Bleach or any Bleach affiliates.**

_**Odalisque**_

**Chapter 15**

"So… how do you look?"

Rukia examined herself in the mirror and pressed a singular hand to her stomach. "I'm not gonna lie Momo… I look good." She twisted and flipped the phone over to her other ear. "I just need to put my makeup on and I'll be gone." She moved forward until her face was only centimeters away from the mirror. She inspected her foundation and lifted the skin around her eyes. She just needed to apply a little mascara, some lip gloss, and a bit of blush.

She pressed the phone between her ear and her shoulder and pulled out a bottle of perfume she rarely used. She sprayed a tiny bit on her wrists then placed a bit more on her neck and behind her ears. She grinned and inhaled generously. There was a reason she only wore this perfume on special occasions. That and it cost nearly three hundred dollars a bottle. She picked up her mascara and placed it on her eyes then stuffed the tube in her tiny purse. She did the same with the lip gloss and the blush.

Momo chattered amiably in her ear and Rukia fluffed her hair. "Are you wearing your hair up or down?" She asked.

"Down," Rukia answered, "I thought I'd try something different."

"Take a picture of yourself," Momo encouraged, "Come on! I have to see you!"

Rukia sighed and stepped away from the mirror. She took her cell phone from her ear, chose the picture selection, and aimed it at the reflecting glass in front of her. She turned to the front, the sides, and a bit to the back, snapping photo after photo. Smirking in satisfaction, she sent them to Momo, who immediately started to squeal.

"You look gorgeous!"

"I know," she sighed smugly, "It comes with the territory. Damn, I'll just watch all those jaws drop." She adjusted her dress and made sure that her breasts were not in danger of falling out. She grinned and said, "And I'm even going to show up a bit late, just for the whole dramatic Cinderella flair."

"Fantastic, you've finally learned something from me." Momo squealed, it even sounded like she was on the verge of tears.

"How does Toshiro look?" Rukia asked, still admiring herself.

"So handsome," she sighed. "I made him dress an hour earlier just so I could rip his tux off and have him." She giggled again and Rukia could practically see her dancing around the room. "Just have fun tonight, okay?"

"I will. Tell Toshiro I'll see him at the party."

"Rukia will see you at the party," she sang into the house and then turned back to the phone, "I'll talk to you later, Shiro's going now and I want to say goodbye properly."

"See you later Momo," Rukia said and they hung up simultaneously.

Rukia stood in front of the mirror once again and inspected how she looked. She smiled at herself and slowly ran her hands from her breasts down to her thighs. She couldn't help the glowing smile that appeared on her mouth as she examined herself. She turned around and stared at the soft planes of her back. God, was it possible to steal her own breath away? She sure hoped that she did the same to every man in the room. She quickly checked her face in the mirror once again and could only describe it as perfect.

She stepped a few feet away and tried to tear her eyes away from her own image. She twirled a few times in the middle of the room and sighed happily. She loved it when she felt beautiful. Especially when she felt beautiful in a new dress. It might be a bit narcissistic but she really didn't care. Hell, she deserved a break from pencil skirts and blouses and tonight would be the perfect night. Right now she was beautiful, she was elegant, and she was confident… there was nothing that could take this away from her.

Rukia took one last look at herself, grabbed her decorative shawl, and exited her apartment. As she locked the door behind her she wondered whether or not Ichigo Kurosaki would like the way she looked tonight. Not that she really cared or anything. She liked the way she looked and she knew that ninety nine point nine percent of people in that room would like the way she looked, so it didn't really matter if Kurosaki liked it either. She descended the stairs with her head held high.

She knew that he would like the way she looked.

-!!-

Suigetsu Inc. and Gotei Corp. had rented a fantastic ballroom for the announcement of their merger. They had chosen the best and most expensive hotel, selected the most exquisite caterers to provide the food, allowed only the top tier of reporters and newscasters to attend the event, and each person attending the event wore ball gowns and tuxedo's that were from the best designers around the world.

Women wore silks from exotic lands, men wore cloth from Italy, hair was styled, nails were done, shoes clicked against polished floors, and champagne glasses were held delicately. An entire string symphony was playing soft music in the corner. Dozens of chandeliers were hanging from the ceiling and lighting the room with a gentle glow. A large, polished, staircase led to the outside. It had twin grand, sweeping, rails that were embossed with shining, golden, paint. The stairs were made of veined marble and led the way to a gleaming wooden floor.

It was that staircase that was accepting dozens of people; colorful women, somber men, and several others alike.

Ichigo stood near the base of those stairs, leaning against the railing, and drinking from his third glass of champagne. He would have preferred a beer but the only thing they had here was champagne. He cursed those frilly party planners for not including something for actual men, this girly drink wouldn't get him _nearly_ drunk enough to survive this party.

He glanced up at the people now coming from the wide, oak doors. It was some sixty year old fat guy that Ichigo had seen around the office sometimes with a woman young enough to be his granddaughter. He knew she wasn't though; she had huge tits, collagen-filled lips, and was wearing a dress that was so revealing it was the minority party on her body.

She looked in his direction and caught Ichigo's eye, or it might have been the other way around, Ichigo couldn't really tell. With her arm still looped around grandpa over there she winked at him and managed to push her breasts out just a bit more. Ichigo snorted and looked away. He wasn't _that_ drunk yet.

_Besides_, he thought in irritation, _her rack was probably purchased by Father Time over there, I like the real thing, not cheap knock-offs._

Ichigo grunted and finished off his glass, passing it to a random caterer. He would have accepted another glass had the damn person not moved off without giving him one. He leaned casually against the railing of the exquisite staircase and ignored several other twenty-something bleached blondes with huge racks slung over crippled old men.

His eyes scanned the room and he noted a few people he knew. Well, sort of, he didn't know their names, but he knew their faces well enough. He also recognized them enough to remember if they irritated him or not. They were all posers, all of them. They were just here to get their names in the paper, to get laid—with the help of several little blue pills—and to get piss-ass drunk… or, at least as drunk as you could get off of frilly shit like champagne.

He grabbed another glass from a passing waiter and took a large gulp. He knew he should be socializing with these people or at least try to talk to them. They were, after all, some of the wealthiest people in the entirety of Karakura, hell, even the entire country. He should have been schmoozing and kissing ass and doing all kinds of shit to try and get himself noticed.

He just didn't feel like it.

Ichigo scoffed inwardly at that idea. Here he was, standing here in an Italian tux, with polished shoes, cufflinks, and coat tails—coat tails for Christ's sake! The only thing that was missing was a damn pair of gloves, a top hat, and a cane. But no, he was the one who actually felt like a real person, around all these pompous posers too!

_Oh the irony_. He shook his head at the ridiculous notion and took another swig from his champagne glass. He should find someone to talk to before he ended up crying in an abandoned room somewhere.

He began to walk around. Tulle, silk, and satin brushed against him as he weaved his way through the crowd. He passed his half-empty—or was it half-full?—glass to an attendant and stuffed his hands into his pockets.

Damn, what was this, the seventh one of these parties he had been to? Why was he still feeling as though it was his first? He continued weaving. Maybe he was just nervous. He did, after all, have to give a speech to all of these party-goers. Hell, without his speech they wouldn't even know why they were here. He rolled his eyes back into his head and prayed to God that he wouldn't have to do anything more complex than stand at the podium and smile. It was Rukia who had the notes. Rukia was the one who was probably the better public speaker. She would be the one talking and he would just be there for the visual effects.

_Wait a minute…_

Where was Rukia? As far as he knew she hadn't even come yet. He hadn't seen her come down the stairs—and he had been watching for at least ten minutes—and they were already a good half an hour into the party. Seriously, several people were already drunk—mostly the blonde bimbos but still… where the hell was she?

"Ichigo Kurosaki!" A voice boomed from behind him. Ichigo's spine stiffened a bit when he recognized the voice. He turned slightly and saw his boss, Sosuke Aizen, coming towards him. Gin Ichimaru wasn't far behind either but it was Aizen who had his arms open like he was going to embrace Ichigo. "The man of the hour!" He cried.

"Good evening sir," Ichigo muttered, feigning politeness and fighting the slight fuzz that was inching into a nanometer of his brain. He extended his hand and gave his boss a lopsided grin.

Aizen smiled warmly and grasped Ichigo's hand in a strong grip. "I'm so glad you could come."

"Well, I kind of had to," he said, his voice becoming flat. Aizen chuckled genially, Ichimaru joined him, and several other people around them—for no particular reason at all—started chuckling as well.

"Of course, of course," he smiled gently and patted Ichigo's back. Grumbling awkwardly, Ichigo felt his boss's hand covertly guiding him towards the side of the room. He went along willingly and placidly told himself just to try and sound intelligent.

"Is Ms. Kuchiki here yet?" He asked, a twinge of impatience evident in his tone.

"No, not yet," Ichigo answered, wishing he had another glass of champagne with him.

"Oh," Aizen's voice lowered slightly and he set his hand completely on Ichigo's shoulder. "Well, we want you two to announce the merger around ten. I hope she's here by then." He squeezed Ichigo's shoulder and laughed merrily, "Or else you'll have to announce it yourself!"

_Like hell._

"I'm sure she'll be here soon," Ichigo muttered. He lifted his arm and effectively exposed his wristwatch while casually brushing Aizen's hand off of his shoulder. "She's only a half an hour late."

"That's what worries me," Ichimaru chimed in and the two of them turned to him. Ichigo blinked at the man while he continued to smile like a… well, like a snake. He cocked his head to the side and crossed his arms over his chest. "She always seems to be early for everything. I hope nothing has happened to her."

Ichigo shook his head, "Trust me, nothing would stop that woman from coming to this little soiree. She'll be here."

_Or I'll kill her._

"I sure hope so," Ichimaru crooned, "But don't panic Kurosaki," he motioned to a large and elegant clock above the staircase. "You've got a half an hour. She'll surely show by then."

_She better._

"Yes, I'm sure she will." Ichigo gave a strained smile to the two of them and then frowned slightly. "Would you two happen to know where Uryu Ishida is?"

Aizen paused, looked around the room, pushed his glasses up his nose, and nodded slightly. "I believe he's talking to the reporter, Ms. Arisawa, over on the other side of the room."

"Tatsuki's here?" He asked, his mood brightening instantly.

"Yes," Aizen said, taking a handkerchief from his breast pocket and using it to wipe his eyeglasses. "You know her, don't you?"

"Yes sir," Ichigo smirked, "We went to school together and worked out at the same dojo." He snorted and shook his head at the memories, "She kicked my ass until I was nine."

"Well," Ichimaru laughed, "That's not exactly something you'd normally hear Ichigo Kurosaki confess everyday."

"If you'll excuse me I'm going to say hello." He started to move away from his two bosses and was nearly successful when Aizen called after him and reminded him to be by the microphones at ten for the announcement. Ichigo merely waved his hand at them in acknowledgement and continued on his way.

He weaved through countless people, accidentally brushed against hundreds of fake breasts, and nearly spilled dozens of champagne glasses before finally spotting them. When Ichigo did see them he grinned and sped up his pace.

Tatsuki Arisawa was one of the only women that Ichigo had known for years yet had never slept with. That, in itself, was quite an accomplishment. Not that she wasn't attractive or anything, it was just that Ichigo thought of Tatsuki more as a sister than as a romantic interest.

She and he grew up together. They lived next door to each other, played when they were toddlers, trained together at the dojo, and went to the same school. When it came time to go to college the two of them finally parted. Tatsuki went to become a journalist and Ichigo went to business and law school. They had kept in touch over the years, had lunch together a few times, and Ichigo even gave her the occasional story or two. It turned out that it was actually a real asset to have a friend in the media; Tatsuki, while still a ruthless pursuant of the truth, wouldn't run something that was horridly embarrassing to him or would show him in a destructive light. She had covered many stories about his success in the business world, his down and dirty tactics, but she was enough of a friend not to mention his personality or his sex life—and how they related to his job—in any of her stories.

It was just one of those things that made his life a little easier to live.

He passed a few more people until he was finally in front of them. Tatsuki seemed to be in deep conversation was Uryu. He paused for a moment to listen and had to blink twice. Was his hearing wrong or were they actually discussing the proper length a hem line should be?

"Wow, this sure is stimulating." He remarked, stuffing his hands back into his pockets.

Tatsuki gasped and swiveled in her spot. "Ichigo!" She cried. She held up her wine glass and saluted him as though he were a sailor. "How goes it?"

"Fine," he squeezed her shoulder lightly—he didn't feel like hugging her while she was a bit tipsy—and gave her a lopsided grin. "How are you and how much have you had to drink?"

"Not much," she hiccupped.

Ichigo looked pointedly at Uryu.

"Five." He said blandly.

"Tatsuki," Ichigo groaned, "You're supposed to be covering the announcement tonight."

"Oh please," she giggled, "I'm going to tape it; I'll do it tomorrow when I'm not so… so…"

"Drunk?" Ichigo supplied.

"Hey," Tatsuki snapped, all the wooziness leaving her body in an instant. She reached out and punched him quickly in the shoulder. Ichigo flinched and brought his other hand up to where he had been struck. He had forgotten that she could hold her drink very well. Better than him, in fact, and he'd already had three glasses. "This stuff is Dom Perignon and it's free. If I had a thermos I'd steal it."

"I'll see if I can get you a few bottles."

"You do that." She tipped her glass to him and nodded her head.

Ichigo grinned and looked his friend over. She had donned a rather interesting dress for the occasion. It was a strapless, slightly above the knee, fire engine red, and covered with spider web patterns of twinkling sequins. On anyone else the dress would have looked tacky, but paired with a set of flashy earrings, matching lipstick, and Tatsuki's signature confident smile it couldn't have looked better.

"You clean up nicely," Ichigo commented and indicated her outfit.

"Thanks," she grinned, "I wanted something to liven the party up a bit. All these chicks seem a bit boring."

"Not boring," Uryu chimed in, looking around the room in disgust. "Just… fashion challenged."

"You can say that again." She agreed wholeheartedly.

Ichigo rolled his eyes as the two of them began discussing the current trends in the fashion world and the effect it had on the global market. Both Tatsuki and Uryu took a sip from their glasses and casually looked around the room as they spoke, occasionally pointing out dresses and costumes that were classy while scoffing at those that were whorish. Ichigo didn't even bother listening to them. He knew that even if he tried to make an effort he would fail miserably. Clothing just wasn't his thing.

He shot a sideways glance at Uryu and wondered if he had gotten over their argument yet. Normally when they had those kinds of _discussion_ about Inoue they didn't speak to each other for a while afterwards. That was generally followed by a week of casual indifference which was then completed by both of them gruffly conversing once again.

They had started the gruff conversing nearly two weeks ago. He supposed that Uryu was over it already, he always got over their arguments about Inoue, he just the needed time.

Ichigo kept his hands in his pockets and looked around the room. He watched dozens of men shaking hands, exchanging pleasantries, laughing, and arguing. He just shook his head and tried not to yawn.

"So Ichigo," Tatsuki said, drawing his attention back to her, "When the hell are you going to announce this big thing?"

"Ten," he said, casually checking his watch for the time.

Uryu frowned softly and glanced around the room. "But where's Rukia? Isn't she supposed to announce it with you?"

"She is," he muttered, "But she's not here yet."

"Well, I hope she shows up soon," Tatsuki muttered, "From what I know of Ichigo's public speaking abilities I wouldn't want him to be the one announcing whatever the hell this thing is."

"How do you know Rukia's not as bad as I am?" He demanded.

Tatsuki barked in laughter, "Please Ichigo, no one's as bad as you." She paused for a minute and slight crease lines appeared in her forehead. "Wait just a minute, do you mean Rukia _Kuchiki_ of the Kuchiki Corporation family?"

"Yeah," Ichigo answered sullenly, "That's her."

"Wow," she breathed and Ichigo raised an eyebrow at her sudden level of interest. "I bet if I can get an interview with her my boss would keel over." She turned to him. "Can you arrange it?"

"Why would you need an interview?" He asked, "I thought you were here to cover the announcement."

"I am," Tatsuki said patiently, "But the Kuchiki's are famous for never giving interviews about anything other than business. Getting the inside scoop on their personal lives could be a really big deal."

"She has no personal life," Ichigo snickered, "She's a robot who enjoys schedules way too much."

"Then why is she late?" Uryu asked calmly. "She should have been here by… oh my, speak of the devil."

Ichigo was about to snort and say "Literally," when he turned around and promptly realized that if he had been holding a champagne glass he would have dropped it.

"Oh. My. God…"

Ichigo could not remember the last time he had ever seen something so beautiful.

Rukia Kuchiki stood in the middle of the marble staircase, glowing in a soft, golden light. Time seemed to stand still as she stayed there and silently observed the room. Conversations ceased, men stopped dancing, women quieted their chatter, and caterers stopped serving, all of them seemed to just be looking up at her.

An attendant slowly walked up to her and she gently removed her shimmering shawl from her shoulders. He took it and bowed away from her. Ichigo could feel his mouth go dry at the sight of her in such eveningwear.

Her ebony hair spilled over her shoulders and curled gently at the nape of her neck. She was wearing a dress as gorgeous as sin. It was black and iridescent in the light of the chandeliers. He drew in a shaky breath as he saw it swirl around her legs and expose tiny black shoes from underneath. Diamond earrings peaked out from beneath her layers of hair and she held a tiny purse at her waist. Ichigo's eyes followed her as she descended the stairs, noticing how her gaze slipped around the room as she walked.

It seemed as though the entirety of the ballroom was staring at her as she descended. Her body sparkled as it moved. She looked absolutely gorgeous. Her sapphire eyes smoldered and her alabaster skin radiated in the room. She looked like an angel swathed in black.

Ichigo's brain didn't even have enough oxygen to bother to consider how much of an oxymoron that was.

"Excuse me," he murmured, brushing past Tatsuki and Uryu in one smooth movement. He heard a definite snicker come from Uryu's direction and a stream of questions coming from Tatsuki's. He ignored them both and immediately began pushing through just about anyone else who was in front of him. He didn't know what the hell he was doing; he just knew that he wanted to be the first one to greet Rukia when she came to the bottom of the steps.

Unfortunately, he was beat to it. He was also startled by the intense urge he felt to rip the head off of the person who did. However, he couldn't exactly kill his boss now, could he?

Aizen must have popped up from the floorboards or something because the next thing Ichigo knew he was taking Rukia's hand and guiding her down the last three steps. She smiled prettily at him and said something charming—he could almost hear it—and stepped down onto the ground gracefully.

Ichigo finally pushed his way through the crowd—at the expense of a few glasses of spilled champagne and a couple ruined tuxedos—and strode forward. Aizen was still holding Rukia's hand and Ichigo wondered why that irritated him so much. He straightened the lapels on his tux and smoothed down the front. He had taken almost three steps when he was once again stopped.

Aizen had motioned to something behind Rukia and she turned softly to look. Ichigo nearly gagged on the invisible lump stuck inside of his throat when he saw… when he saw…

Rukia's dress had no back. Well, it did, but the fabric only started once the gentle curve of her spine ended. He felt his jaw quivering as he stared, fixated, at the fair planes of her back. He could only see an expanse of white skin before the dress took its job up once again and covered her. His breathing was ragged as he stared at the gentle swell of her backside and down to the flowing fabric of her dress.

"Ichigo… I see you've come to welcome me."

He looked up blearily, "Huh?"

Rukia's knowing eyes twinkled into his own. He swallowed hard and wished that some type of distraction would suddenly appear. He could sure as hell use one.

"I—I, uh, thought you weren't going to, um, c-come." He managed and quickly cleared his throat. "I thought I'd have to announce this thing myself."

"Oh don't worry," she said, laughing in a twinkling way that made Ichigo's gut clench hard, "I wouldn't leave you out to dry."

His normal response of 'Yes you would' was turned into some sort of gargle. In a moment of silence and panic Ichigo thrust his hand out and swallowed again. "If we could t-talk about what we're going to say, that'd be… good."

"Certainly," she turned to Aizen and slid her hand out of his. He seemed disappointed but Ichigo felt passionately relieved. "Thank you for greeting me Mr. Aizen."

"Sosuke, for tonight." He assured her and Ichigo had another intense urge to lunge at the man.

"Of course." She smiled and turned to Ichigo. Both of her hands went to her purse and she raised one eyebrow. "Shall we?"

Hand still outstretched he took one step forward, touched her elbow gently, and began to lead her away from their bosses. He couldn't be exactly sure, but he could almost swear that he could see merciless laughter shining in her eyes.

He steered her away until they were in a secluded corner of the room. He let go of her elbow—even though the larger part of him was telling him to hold on for deal life—and turned to face her.

"So…" he breathed. His hands were shaking a bit but he slid them inside of his pockets as soon as he could so she wouldn't notice. Still, he had a strange feeling that she did, notice that is.

"So," she said just as quietly. She looked down at the ground for a moment and Ichigo even caught her shoe scuffing into the floor. She looked up and smiled, "Our speech?"

"Um, yeah," he said, raising his hand and scratched the back of his head. "Did you want me to actually talk or…?"

"No," she reassured him, "I'll do it. You just add in a few comments here and there. You know, comic relief and such."

"Right," he murmured. He didn't know why but it seemed as though he couldn't keep his eyes off of the floor. Christ! He felt like a blushing virgin about to have sex for the first time. Or—or at least a boy going out of a first date. But this wasn't a date, they weren't having sex, and he could stare at the floor if he wanted to.

"We announce it at ten, right?" She asked, her voice floating above the symphonic music as though it belonged with it.

"Yeah," Ichigo shoved his watch in front of his face and coughed when he saw it was only quarter of. He stuffed his Rolex back into his pocket and continued to count the veins in the polished wood floors. "Um, also, my friend Tatsuki Arisawa is here. She works for the _Karakura Ledger_ and she said something about getting a story on you."

He hazarded a glance up and saw tiny crease lines on her perfect forehead. "On me? But isn't she here to cover the merger announcement?"

"She is," he said, garnering enough courage to look at her collar bone. "But she said that since your family is very secretive that she'd like to try and squeeze a story out of you."

"She can try," Rukia laughed, "But I won't say a thing. We Kuchiki's have our secrets." Her eyes hardened just a bit at that last statement.

Ichigo nodded mutely and watched Rukia check on the time, giving him another glimpse of her gorgeous backside, "Well, I'm going to go prepare. I'll see you up with Aizen and Yamamoto at ten."

"Is Yamamoto even here?" Ichigo asked.

Rukia merely shrugged, "I have no idea. I heard that Ukitake was too ill to come." She shook her head and sighed. "Oh well, it might just have to be us and Aizen doing all the talking." She winked those big, liquid, sapphire, eyes at him and Ichigo felt his knees nearly collapse.

She turned away from him and began to walk into the crowd. He could tell that she was preparing to do lots of schmoozing tonight. Her hands were already up and out and ready to be kissed by men thrice her age. She walked with her head held high and her shoulders held back. She was proud and beautiful and graceful as she stepped away from him.

"Rukia!"

Ichigo didn't know where that had come from. One minute he had been speechless and the next he was calling out her name in a crowded ballroom. What the hell was going on with him?

She slowed and pivoted. Ichigo swallowed and felt his feet moving forward. Before he could stop himself he was in front of her, bending down softly, and pressing his lips to her cheek. He lingered longer than he should have; it was long enough so that he could feel her cheek heating underneath his lips and definitely long enough so that he could smell the delicious perfume that she had sprayed on her skin. It made his head spin and his stomach churn. He slowly lifted his mouth and stepped back.

"You look beautiful." He said softly.

She brought her hand up and touched her cheek. "Thank you." She murmured, her voice filled with squeaky awe. "Thank you very much."

He grinned and for the first time since seeing her, his schoolboy fearfulness dropped away and his manly cockiness returned. "You're welcome." He said just as quietly as before.

She nodded wistfully and turned away once again. This time, she vanished into the crowd.

-!!-

Rukia kept touching her cheek for the entire fifteen minutes until the merger announcement. His lips had felt so soft, even softer than when she had nearly-and-accidentally kissed him a few weeks ago. She swallowed and felt a small shiver run down her spine. Her attention drifted away from the man she was having a conversation with. He was telling her something about his impressive records of the weakness of the dollar next to the euro and how that affected the yen. She merely nodded and made sure that her eyes didn't have a certain far-away look they tended to get when she wasn't paying attention.

Unconsciously, her fingers brushed against her cheek once again.

After she and Ichigo had almost-and-accidentally kissed they both seemed to have some sort of silent agreement that neither one of them would speak about it again. She returned to work the next day and immediately asked about a new file. He at least had the decency to blush slightly before answering her. After that… it was a dead topic. They avoided each other like the plague and only spoke when they needed to. But that had been a few weeks ago. And now…

She touched her cheek again and sighed. She could feel it still tingling. The man she was talking to laughed and she laughed in response. She knew this pompous dance too well to actually be interested. She just nodded silently and kept thinking.

"_You look beautiful."_

She smiled inwardly. She _knew_ that he would like the way she looked.

"Excuse me sir," she interrupted sweetly, her voice as smooth as honey, the man in front of her practically salivated. "Would you happen to know the time?"

Three men answered her. "Nine fifty five."

She smiled sympathetically. "I'm sorry, I have to go and announce something. Will you excuse me for a moment?" It wasn't a question.

"Only if you promise to come back," the dollar/euro/yen man said charmingly before grasping her hand softly and pressing a rather wet kiss to the back of her knuckles.

"Of course," she assured him even though she was lying through her teeth. "Excuse me," she said again and began to float away. Yes, she could float. She glided through the heavy masses of people and came towards the podium that had been erected. Swiftly, she pulled small note cards out of her purse and examined them once more—even though she knew them by heart. She put them back in, straightened her shoulders, and walked towards her boss.

Aizen was standing near the podium, his hand raised in order to signal the symphony to cease playing. Rukia slid over to him and smiled happily.

"Good," Aizen sighed, "You're here a bit early, now if Ichigo would—"

"I'm here," came a gruff voice from a few steps behind Rukia. She smiled and nodded to him once. She also fought the urge to touch her cheek again. He grinned at her and took a few steps closer. She could almost feel his suit against the exposed skin of her back.

"Are you two ready?" Aizen asked. The grin decorating his face made him look like a ten year old let loose inside of a candy store. He raised his hand and motioned to the symphony to stop playing. He then, in a grand, sweeping gesture, indicated to the rising that was erected just for them. Rukia was ready to ascend the limited stairs when she felt a warm hand grip her small fingers. She looked over and raised an eyebrow at her business partner, who was pointedly looking away from her. Nevertheless, her hand felt good in his. She carefully picked herself up each step, his hand steadying her as she went.

Ichigo—she would allow herself to call him Ichigo… but just for tonight—followed her quickly. They stood a good three feet taller than the audience before them and as soon as they turned to face the crowd and slew of photographers were in front of them. Rukia smiled prettily for the cameras and noted one woman was standing in the front wearing a dress as red as a fire engine and holding a tape recorder. She nodded to her and she nodded back. Rukia could only surmise that she was Tatsuki Arisawa from the _Karakura Ledger_. She'd have to fend her off for the rest of the night.

The music stopped playing. The caterers had disappeared tactfully to the sides of the room. Everyone in attendance had turned towards them. Rukia glanced down at Aizen and he gave her the go-ahead. She smiled wonderfully and began.

"Good evening ladies and gentlemen." She said and her voice floated across the room like a light and powdery sugar. "I'm sure you're all quite happy to be here, we have a fantastic host, wonderful music, more champagne than we could ever wish for—" She paused for a light chuckle and a slight raising of the glasses. "However, I'm sure that not very many of you know exactly _why_ we're here, enjoying ourselves so thoroughly."

Laughter rang out in the room and she noted several paunches jiggled. She smiled once again for the cameras and drew in a deep breath.

"Tonight, Mr. Ichigo Kurosaki and I, Rukia Kuchiki, are very pleased to announce a significant occurrence in our business world." She glanced back at Ichigo and saw him smirking lightly. "We are working together on the merger of two amazing companies, The Gotei Corporation and Suigetsu Incorporated."

A collective gasp ran throughout the room. Rukia felt like giggling insanely at the reaction. She knew it would be big but this… this was interesting. Several men had flipped out their cell phones and were calling their stock brokers, tiny blonde women were looking around in confusion, photographers had finally realized that this wasn't just a chance to get free booze, and the reporters that were in attendance—including Ms. Arisawa—pulled out pens and pads of paper and began actually writing things down.

Rukia grinned and continued. "I know that this might seem a surprise but I from what I can see we have no where to go but up. Members of the press," she said, looking down at those in front of her, "We have packets near the band that will give you any information that has been decided to be released about this event. All questions will be answered inside of them."

She looked around the room once again before smiling and saying, "Thank you, and please do not panic just yet. The merger will not be complete for several more months. At which time you will have plenty of opportunities to harass your stock brokers. Please, enjoy the rest of the party." She cut off with an air of finality that could not be compromised.

The press, however, could not be commanded by her ending. They began to ask a barrage of questions, all of which were left unanswered as Rukia descended the stairs—alone this time. She shook her head warmly and respectfully at all of them and once again disappeared into the crowd. This left them to attack Aizen like vultures.

Once she was far enough away to feel safe from any reporters she turned around and found her face in someone's chest.

"You weren't going to let me deal with them myself now, were you?"

Oh, _that_ chest.

"Of course not." Rukia said, backing up a few paces. "I knew you'd get away."

"By some miracle, you mean." He snorted.

"I thought you had friends in the press," she commented, noticing how close he was to her. She could even smell him and… oh he smelled good.

"One friend, not an entire army of them." He shook his head and looked back at the people who were attacking their boss. "I thought only a few papers would be admitted."

"We decided on a larger bunch." Rukia told him, looking speculatively at the crowd. "At least seven. We want to dominate the front page tomorrow, not just the business section."

"Oh," he gave her a sly look and cocked an eyebrow up, "You were the one who created the press packets, right?"

"Of course," she grinned, "It took a while but I did it." She rolled her shoulders and then her neck. "I was glad I did too. Now they'll be stuck in those packets for the entire night instead of asking us questions."

"It was pretty… innovative." He muttered, keeping his hands inside of his pockets. Rukia looked sideways at him, something in his voice didn't sound right.

"What?" She demanded, her voice developing the edge she hadn't wanted to use this evening.

"Nothing," he shrugged, "I just think, well, you could've done something more enjoyable with your time."

She shook her head, "Like what?"

"I don't know," he sighed, "Just… something."

"Yes well, you'll be glad when you can dance with some of these women and not be interrupted by reporters." She began to look around the room at the many couples waltzing to the newly resurrected music.

"I don't want to dance with these women," he said, his voice was soft but she still heard him. She turned her head to him and found the entirety of his intense, honeyed-amber eyes focused on her. He moved until he was standing completely in front of her. Rukia, for a moment, blessed her choice of footwear, at least for tonight she could look him in the chin instead of the collarbone. "I want to dance with you."

Rukia didn't take in the enormity of what he meant. Her brain, which she tried to tell herself was just a little loopy tonight, didn't get what he was saying. She didn't get that his eyes on her body were basically undressing her, she didn't get that he wanted to dance with her so he could put his hands on her back and touch her skin, she didn't get that he wanted to smell that wonderful scent she had chosen for tonight, she just… didn't get it.

"You can dance?" She asked instead, her voice breathless.

His mouth quirked up but his dangerous eyes stayed on her. "I can dance."

"Maybe in a minute." She said, she almost felt uncomfortable at the way he was looking at her. "I need to go find Toshiro and ask him something about the wedding."

She saw his jaw become tight but he nodded anyway. She nodded once, wanting to reach out and touch him but refraining from doing so. She knew that if she touched him she would end up dancing with him.

"Later then," he said and she nodded again. She drew in a breath and turned away, feeling his eyes on her the entire time.

-!!-

Ichigo watched her go.

"_You can dance?"_

"_I can dance."_

He didn't tell her that he could dance either vertically or horizontally. He was good at vertical but he was _damn _good at horizontal. Yet at this moment he wasn't sure which one he would have preferred to do with her. After all, this was a party, they had to be proper.

He paused for a moment and stuffed a ball of something crab-like in his mouth.

Horizontal. Definitely horizontal. With her looking like that and smelling like that and talking like that… if there was a bed in here they would have been on it in three seconds flat. He frowned sourly and began to stalk away. They could just do it on the floor. He shuddered at the mental image. Or he was pretty sure he could hold her up against the wall. She was tiny after all.

She didn't come back to dance with him though. The minutes ticked by and slowly transformed into hours. He waited, although he was quite sure that she wasn't coming back anytime soon. She had seen the look in his eyes when he told her about his… _dancing_ abilities_._ If she had any type of sexual receptors in her brain she would have realized what he actually meant.

It was probably better that she stay away from him. He had obviously had too much to drink tonight—even though he hadn't touched anything alcoholic since _she_ had entered the building. Still, he must have been on something because he was seriously considering trying to convince Rukia to come home with him so he could strip off all of her clothes and make her scream. He just wasn't in his right mind. It was the only explanation he could think of to describe his completely strange behavior. Honestly, he was following her around the room, not physically per say, but his eyes watched her wherever she went. He saw her sparkling form waltzing with men barely able to stand without a cane. He watched her drink champagne from glasses brought to her by salivating caterers. He even watched her fend off Tatsuki several times, who was following her in an even more dogged manner than Ichigo.

Once, she came close enough to him that he could speak to her but once she realized that he was actually there she had turned and floated in the opposite direction. He considered going after her but thought better of it. He had to think clearly. He had to find a way to stop thinking about taking Rukia's dress off.

"Sweet Jesus," he cursed and looked up at the clock. It was nearly one in the morning. He blinked and wondered where the time had gone. Or, for that matter, where everyone else had gone. Only a few people lingered in the grand ballroom. He put his hand to his forehead and wondered if he had come down with a fever in the space of a few hours. Was it actually possible for him not to notice the hours melting away because he was so focused on one woman? Was it?

He swallowed and tried to force the thought away. His mind, although he told it not to, ended up going back to Rukia. She was one of the few people left in the ballroom, Aizen was also saying goodbye to a few guests, and the caterers were beginning to pack up what food was left over. Frowning, Ichigo wondered when Tatsuki and Uryu had left. They hadn't even bothered to say goodbye.

_Maybe they did and you were just too fixated on Rukia to notice,_ he thought with a slight cringe of mental disgust. _Just be lucky you've controlled your boner all night._ He told himself dully.

He saw Rukia go off to the side of the room and shrugged. He might as well get home. It was late—or early depending on how you looked at it—he was tired, he was cranky, and he wasn't getting laid so it would probably be best just to go home and have some sort of erotic dream about Rukia. That way he'd get it out of his system and be back to normal in the morning. That was it, he hadn't jacked off with Rukia in his head ever before. He'd thought about her, sure, but never to the point of such, er, _pleasure._

He strode across the room and reached Aizen. He had finally said goodbye to the owner of some sort of electronic company based in Canada and was casually stretching his arms. His eyes lit up when he saw Ichigo approach and he held out his hand in a fatherly gesture.

"That was some shindig, wasn't it Ichigo?" He laughed happily even though his voice gave his fatigue away.

"Yes it was," he said, grimacing slightly. He was trying to smile but urgent thoughts of getting home and picturing Rukia naked kept him from doing so. "We should do it again sometime."

"Oh we will," Aizen assured him, "At the end of the merger and by that time I'll sure you'll have even more to celebrate."

"Sure," he sighed. He faked a yawn and tugged his hand out of Aizen's fatherly grip. "I'm gonna get home. I'm beat."

"Of course," Aizen smiled, "Make sure you say goodbye to Rukia on your way out."

"Will do," he said and turned his back on his boss. He closed his eyes and ran a hand over his face as he ascended the stairs. The attendant handed him his jacket and he immediately checked the pockets for the keys. They jingled safely inside and he sighed. There was nothing like a man's car to make him feel better. Especially if he needed cheering up about a woman.

"Vile bitch," he snarled half-heartedly. "I shouldda just grabbed her onto the dance floor. _I_ wouldn't have stepped on her toes." He snorted when he remembered one incident from earlier when Rukia's toe had been jammed by a slimy trustee-baby in his forties. Ichigo's mood darkened when he thought of that guy and how he had constantly kept stroking Rukia's back with his thumb and breathing on her with his foul, _eau de toilette _breath. Sickening. He knew that he had tried to proposition her for later that evening but Rukia, being as savvy as she was, only laughed and said 'No thank you' and walked away.

Ichigo had wanted so badly to rip that man's shriveling dick off of his body. He settled for _accidentally _spilling champagne on his ten thousand dollar outfit. Twice.

"Kurosaki!"

He froze. He pivoted. He looked down the stairs. He watched Rukia slowly walk up to him. He ceased to breathe.

She stood in front of him and nodded to the attendant, who brought over her shawl and placed it delicately around her shoulders. She smiled at him, thanked him, and then turned to Ichigo.

She smiled like an angel and nodded, "You look nice tonight too." She stepped towards him, pressed her hand onto his shoulder, leaned up on her toes, and pecked him on the cheek. He couldn't move as she returned to her normal height—for tonight anyway—and walked briskly away.

Ichigo could not think. He could barely breathe. That was the second time… the second time she had kissed him on the cheek. The second time she had pressed those soft lips of hers onto his skin.

The second time… and this time it was not enough.

He moved quickly, as quickly as he could in his, er, _present_ state, anyway. His footsteps shadowed hers until he was only a few feet away. Rukia stepped into the elevator and after making a split-second decision, he followed.

Ichigo watched her eyes follow him as he entered the elevator. His eyes flashed as he took in her appearance once again. God she looked tantalizing in that little black number, with the fabric draped around her neck and shoulders, with the shimmering black cloth swirling around her legs, and the gaping back giving a tantalizing view of the milky planes of her shoulders all the way down to her perfectly rounded ass.

He slid into the elevator and noticed how she moved slightly away from him. He didn't want that though. He wanted her to be as close to him as humanly possible. He wanted to feel her slick and naked against his overly heated chest. He wanted to feel her hot and tight around him as he pummeled into her. A kiss on the cheek wasn't enough now. Not by a long shot.

The elevator doors closed and immediately he was assaulted by her freakishly fantastic scent. She was wearing something amazing, he couldn't place the brand but he knew that whatever it was it was mixed with her essence. Her arrogant, overpowering, and completely sexy scent… It was _fantastic_.

Ichigo couldn't take it anymore. All night he had had to watch her dance with men twice her age, smile prettily at them as though they were the only ones in the room, sip champagne with her dainty pinky finger raised, and flaunt that body of hers in that perfectly sexy dress. Fuck, the way she looked tonight should have been illegal. She should have been arrested for looking the way she did.

Ichigo swallowed thickly as images of fuzzy pink handcuffs, Rukia wearing nothing but a thong and black heels, and her body against his assaulted his mind. His brain was sizzling. The air inside of the elevator was so hot. It was beating down on him, pushing her scent further and further inside of him until he could barely stop himself from stopping this elevator, pushing her against the wall, and kissing the fuck out of her.

Ichigo felt his blood hum at the severity of his thoughts. Why was he thinking of kissing her when one of his rules was not to kiss anyone? For the past three years his life had been filled with situations like these and each time he had never felt a desire this strong to kiss someone. Uryu had chided him because of his stupid rule; he said he was like Julia Roberts in _Pretty Woman_ with his rule about kissing.

Maybe tonight that rule would finally be broken.

Before Ichigo knew what he was doing he took one step forward and pressed the stop button on the elevator.

"Kurosaki!" She spat angrily, turning to face him with eyes that told him she was ready to fight. "What the hell is wrong with—"

She didn't get to finish. Her words were silenced. They came from her mouth and instead of being vocalized they were thrust into his mouth. She gasped when she felt one of his large hands come to the back of her neck and hold her there. Her eyes were open wide as she felt his soft and hot and insistent lips slide against hers. His eyes were open as well but only slightly. He could only see her flushed cheeks against her normally pale skin but none of it seemed to matter at the moment.

She was delicious.

Ichigo pressed his head further against her and listened to the glorious moan that escaped her throat. Ichigo wanted to touch that throat, kiss it, and cover it with little nips and bites. Another sound emanated from that creamy column of her neck and Ichigo felt his blood react immediately. The one hand at the back of her neck tightened even more and he tilted his head to the side. She was probably only letting him do this because she was surprised. Hell, he was surprised, when this evening started he had had no intention of kissing—or even touching—Rukia Kuchiki. He had even hated her for being late.

It was all her fault, he decided stubbornly, if she hadn't worn that dress and donned that little spritz of whatever the hell she was wearing he wouldn't be doing what he was doing now.

Her hands were pressing against his chest and Ichigo's stomach immediately filled with ice. She wanted him to get off of her. Oh fuck he didn't want to stop kissing her. He hadn't even completely kissed her yet! While his lips tasted hers he hadn't even sampled her exquisite flavor with his tongue yet. Still, it wasn't in his nature to kiss someone when they were trying to push him off.

He knew she wanted it though. He knew it. Her flesh wouldn't be heating and her skin wouldn't be covered in goose-bumps if she didn't want it.

Ichigo ripped his lips off of hers only when he felt her shove him for the, what was it… fourth? Yes, the fourth time.

Ichigo's hand was still on the back of her head and the other was firmly planted on her arse—wait… when had his fingers started clenching _that_ particular area?—he was breathing ridiculously hard and his heart felt like it was beating out of control. He didn't know what color his face was but he knew that it must have been close to scarlet. The heat in the elevator was increasing tremendously and their proximity to one another didn't help matters much.

Rukia had never looked more beautiful. Her supremely styled hair was mussed and falling down, her face was flushed and hot, her lips were pink and looked tremendously kissable, and her chest was heaving up and down. His hand pressed harder against her bottom and—to his everlasting surprise—the prudish Rukia Kuchiki did not say a word. She seemed to be trying so hard to string a completely competent sentence together so there was no way she could protest one hand on her ass… and such a firm ass at that, all supple and tight.

Her mouth opened several times to try and say something and each time Ichigo's eyes flashed a dangerous shade. He could see her tiny pink tongue inside of that delectable mouth of hers. He wanted it, oh god he wanted it so badly…

"I—I… you—" her voice was garbled and husky. Her beautiful, liquid sapphire eyes were blinking at him in confusion and deep within those fantastic orbs he could see a myriad of emotions: desire, anger, heat… passion.

"What are you doing?" She croaked finally. It seemed to Ichigo that she just suddenly realized what position they were in. Her hands were flexing from their spots on his shirt front.

Ichigo's eyes burned into hers and his hand tightened on the back of her head. "Kissing you." He whispered and watched as the statement rolled over her entire body. She shuddered and the goose-bumps on her arms rose even more.

Ichigo bent his head back down and was met with no resistance. She even rose to meet him. Ichigo's hand on her ass tightened to the point of bruising as his lips tore at her mouth. She gasped hard and Ichigo didn't waste any time diving into that silky abyss of heat. A guttural groan escaped from the pit of his stomach and he felt his body pulsating with fire when her arms snaked from his chest to around his neck.

Ichigo's tongue rammed itself against hers. He didn't know how he could still be conscious after tasting the exquisite flavor that was Rukia Kuchiki. She was the most delicious mix of sweetness and danger. He could taste vanilla and champagne dancing upon her tongue. She groaned against him and he pressed his head wildly against hers. He needed more of this. She was like a hallucinogen. His mind was spinning deeper and deeper into the insanity that was this tiny woman. His brain seemed to be short circuiting as she battled him. Her fingers were weaving into his hair and his were tugging at her raven locks. Wearing her hair down was one of the catalysts of tonight. Seeing it fall around her face and her magnificent eyes like that had begun this cascade of desires inside of him.

He wretched his mouth away from hers and delighted in the whimper that came from her lips. The heat in the elevator was unbearable. He was sweating in his tuxedo and he could taste the beads of salty moisture on her neck. His tongue came from his mouth and he ran it along her neck. The heat from her skin and the salt from her sweat boiled swirled together and made his eyes roll back into his head. Her hands desperately mangled his hair and she arched her neck back. He nipped at the front of her creamy throat and she gasped. Her fingernails were digging into his scalp. His teeth bit at her skin.

Then she said something that made Ichigo want to throw her down onto the carpeted floor of the elevator and have her so hard neither of them would be able to move for hours.

His name escaped her lips. His first name without his last attached as a curse. The appellation was fragmented as they were wretched from her throat. The three syllables were broken into at least eight. Her chest heaved up and down. She began to say his name again and again and again. The more she said it the more desperate he became. Desperate for contact. Having her chest thud against his with each breath she took wasn't enough.

He dug his hands into her ass and lifted her up. She gasped when her back connected solidly with the wall. The hand that had been on the back of her neck moved down until it rested on top of one of her thighs. He felt an intense shudder run down her body when he dug his fingers between her legs and pried them apart. She resisted for a minute before tightening her arms around his neck and shoving her legs apart.

He wondered if what she felt when he pressed himself completely against her was expected. He could only assume as much seeing how she was driving him nearly completely insane just by the way she was touching him. Her reaction, however, still came and it was everything he ever wanted and more.

She threw her head back hard against the elevator wall. Her mouth was open and desperately gasping for air while her nails dug into his tuxedo jacket.

"Shit!" She gasped. Ichigo's hands slid under her ass, holding her and supporting her, as he ground into her as hard as he could and as fast as he could. He didn't know when her sense of reason would finally kick in and force her to stop him. He didn't know if he could take that. He did not want to leave this damn elevator with the biggest case of blue balls ever recorded in history.

Her face was now completely level with his. When she finally brought her head back down to his one of her hands moved from his shoulder up to his hair. She yanked his hair back to her and then slammed his lips onto hers.

Ichigo kissed her like he had never kissed a woman before in his life. Their mouths were opened completely so they could devour as much of each other as possible. She bit his lips and then stroked the marks. He pushed his tongue so far into her that he wouldn't have doubted if he had stolen her voice. Meanwhile his legs were pressed between hers. His throbbing erection was pushing through his pants and rubbing hard into her. He shivered when he thought of what she must feel like underneath the few scraps of cloth… warm, dripping wet, and tantalizingly sexual.

His chest molded to hers and before he could stop himself one of his hands left her perfectly formed ass and skimmed up her side. His hand gripped her breast and he delighted in how well it fit into the palm of his hand. She squeaked into his mouth and he continued to tease her. Soon enough he began to yearn for her mouth to moan the way it moaned when he touched her breast. He wanted to hear her gasp out his name again and again until her throat was sore and dry.

His palm skimmed up even more until his fingers were braced on the strap of her dress. He tugged it down, exposing more and more of her fantastically white skin until he felt the rosy tip of her nipple puckering against his touch.

He hadn't even noticed that her hand was doing a bit of exploring as well. Her fingers were spread and running down the entire length of his chest. He shuddered when she touched his abdomen and then trailed even lower until she was gripping him in her hand.

He murmured her name into their kiss and grunted when her hold on him tightened. If he wasn't careful he'd come right now… ruining both his chances and his best tux all because of his lack of self-control. He pressed his thumb against her nipple and she jerked violently.

Ichigo didn't know what happened next, all he could be sure of was that the formerly pleasant hold she had on his cock had tightened to the point of pain. He grunted and ripped his lips from hers.

"Rukia, what the fu—ahh!" He felt like convulsing it hurt so much.

She was panting and sliding down the wall of the elevator, all the while her hand was still holding his dick as tightly as she possibly could. Ichigo curled in against himself and planted either of his hands on the walls beside her. He didn't know what was going on. Was she doing some sort of weird S and M thing that he should be aware of? Was she enjoying this? Was he supposed to chime in some sort of universal safe word? Wait…

Was she _stopping_ him?

"Rukia…" he ground out, his teeth completely gritted together and his eyes a feral shade of gold. His snarl turned into a yelp when she squeezed him once again and he immediately felt like going into the fetal position.

She sidled over to the side and pressed the start button on the elevator pad. The lights came back on, the sounds of the machines started up again, and the ground beneath them began to move again.

"What," he wheezed, "The hell… are you… _doing_?"

He didn't see Rukia gulp before she answered him. "You might be an excellent kisser, Kurosaki," she panted. "But I'm not _that_ far gone."

The elevator dinged and she released Ichigo's balls from her iron grip. He felt like crying in relief but realized that he couldn't actually feel his nuts.

Out of the corner of his eyes he saw her adjust her underwear, straighten her dress, and comb her fingers through her hair before exiting the elevator and walking out into the lobby.

She didn't look back but Ichigo could tell in the way she wobbled, trembled, and shook that she was not as in control as she wanted him to think she was.

**(A/N: So… what do you think? I like it but then again, I'm biased. Thanks to everyone who has reviewed. I was astounded at the amount I received for my last chapter, 39 if I'm not mistaken, you guys are seriously the best! This chapter is also dedicated to neiraa, who begged me to update just a teensy bit sooner so she could read a chapter before she moved.**

**College is going okay, I'm fitting in better than I thought I would. You wouldn't believe how many Bleach/fanfiction nuts there are here! Woot woot! I have found my circle!**

**PLEASE TAKE THE TIME TO REVIEW! I'LL LOVE YOU FOREVER IF YOU DO!)**


	17. Chapter 16

**Disclaimer: I do not own Bleach or any Bleach affiliates.**

_**Odalisque**_

**Chapter 16**

Rukia looked up the moment Ichigo opened the door to their office. His eyes met hers within seconds and instead of turning away from their intense amber blaze—which was what she wanted to do—she met them head on. She only blinked once in the sixty seconds that he stood immobile. She could see it in his gaze though, he was running through every image he had of her, every part of the kiss they had shared was whooshing through his body. Every touch, taste, smell, and sound was being reviewed in his mind as fast as lightning. She saw him swallow convulsively and shudder once before he stepped inside and shut the door behind him.

"Good morning," he murmured softly, Rukia's brain took in his tone as calm and collected, with just a hint of something more carnal ghosting on the edges.

"Good morning." She replied, careful to keep her tone clipped and sharp.

He moved closer into the room and stood only three feet away from her desk. "How was your Sunday?" He asked, careful to keep his tone conversational.

She tried to focus on her free cell game. "It was fine." Rukia said just as lightly.

"Did you have dreams about me?"

The smugness in his voice made her want to throw something at him. She looked up sharply and saw that, except for maybe a small upward tilt to his mouth, he was being… _serious._

"I did not." She answered flatly. She tried to keep her gaze steadily on his. She didn't want him to know that she was lying. Too bad for her his mouth quirked up even more and he crossed his arms over his chest. He raised his eyebrow and seemed to be trying to subconsciously get her to confess.

Her insides burned softly and she stubbornly looked back to his computer. She didn't want him to know that she had gone home that night, removed all of her clothing, slipped between her silken sheets, brought her fingers down between her legs, stroked herself into a frenzy, and came with his name on her lips. When she came down from her ecstatic high she wiped the sweat off of her forehead and swore to herself never to do it again. She promised herself that she would never, ever, think of him while, ah, taking care of business.

Although she did have to admit that it had been the best _business_ session she'd had in _years_.

He took another step forward, "Are you sure?" He asked, his voice softer than it had been a moment before.

"Very sure," she snipped. She stared stonily at her computer and clicked up another card into the appropriate spot.

He was barely inches away from her. He had maneuvered so that her desk was no longer between them. She stiffened when she felt his warmth radiate from his body. She had to fight to suppress the shivers that were threatening to take hold.

She was glaring wholeheartedly at her computer screen when something warm and soft reached out and brushed against her cheek. Simultaneously, she jerked upwards and back, her chair almost slammed into the wall as her flaming cheeks were brought up to his. She stared viciously at him while a great big grin spread over his face.

"In your dream," he began slyly, "Was I good?"

_Okay, that's it you pompous cretin._

Rukia let a low, sensual, moan hum through her lips. She shifted her head over to his and slowly leaned back in her chair. His eyes followed her every movement as she uncrossed her legs and parted them as far as she could in her skirt. His gaze moved down to her legs but she brought it back up when she leaned down and her hand brushed against her calf. His stare flicked over to her fingers and she hummed gently as she pulled her hand up to her thigh. She brushed it against her knee and then started up again.

"In my dream," she said in a low voice, lacing her tone with honey and sexuality. "I was standing in a hallway, wearing a white, silky robe that was _far_ too short for me. I stepped into the room and there he was…" she let loose a heady, delicious, groan from behind her lips. She slid her hand up to her jacket and slowly pulled the buttons out of their holes. She leaned her head back against the soft leather of her chair and smiled.

"I took my robe off and I was _completely_ naked underneath…" she peeked up at Ichigo and saw that his face was white, his hands were clenching into his crossed arms, and his little… _friend_ was rather awake.

"I went to the bed," she continued, tugging the top button of her shirt away, then the second, and then the third, just enough to show the delicate swell of her breasts. She could hear Ichigo panting softly. "And I put my mouth around him, and I sucked him… hard." She giggled darkly, "I've always been told that I was good at stuff like that."

"And?" He demanded hoarsely.

"And after he came in my mouth," she whispered, leaning forward until her elbows were resting on the top of the desk and her cleavage was in clear sight of Ichigo's hungry eyes. "And after I swallowed everything he had to offer—" Ichigo choked, "I pushed him back on the bed, stroked him, and took him into me."

She bit her bottom lip hard and let an animalistic moan rip through her throat. "But then he flipped me over and he slammed into me so _hard_." She gasped and threw herself back into her chair, writhing as though she was having an orgasm. "Over and over and over again until I came. Oh _fuck_, I came so hard that I couldn't feel my toes. He was so good, he came hard… again."

"He?" Ichigo squeaked, "I thought you said you dreamt about me."

Rukia wiggled back into her previous position in her chair and chuckled darkly. Her hands went back up to button her shirt and her jacket, his eyes followed her through the entire process. "I never said I dreamt about you…" she smoothed her hair back into place and removed the fuzzy, orgasmic, sounds from her clear voice. "You just _assumed_ it was you. And you know what they say about assuming."

She felt him bristle on the other side of her desk.

"Besides," she scoffed, "You're all show and no substance," she looked up at him sharply and raised an eyebrow. "I bet you could _never_ come twice."

Rukia's head jerked back against her chair and her body wretched forward just a bit before it slammed back into the soft, squishiness of the seat. A gasp was ripped from her mouth as she felt both of Ichigo's hands plant themselves on her armrests. His muscled appendages brushed against her shoulders as his face moved until it was only centimeters away from hers. She could feel his hot breath on her lips as she stared, wide-eyed, into his blazing hot amber gaze.

"You've heard of the refractory period?" He demanded hotly, his head angling to the side, as if to kiss her.

She didn't answer.

"It's the time right after an orgasm where a man can't physically get it up." He explained in a deadly, sexually-charged, tone. "It takes fifteen minutes for an average teenage boy to be able to get a hard on after he's had an orgasm." He brought his lips down to his neck and Rukia gasped when she felt his tongue slide over her pulse. "Just to let you know," he whispered, his lips fluttering against her milky skin. "_I_ have it down to _five_ minutes."

Rukia's eyes widened to the size of dinner plates.

"And Princess," he moved up to her ear and blew his hot breath into it as he spoke. "I can keep going _all_ night." He pulled back and looked her dead in the eye. "I just wonder if you'd be able keep up."

The surprise began to wear off of her body, the shock of having him looming over her, talking to her like this, and looking at her with those damnably and lusciously sex-filled eyes was leaving her bones bit by bit. She swallowed once before looking back up at him and raising one delicate eyebrow.

"I can keep up with the best of them, Kurosaki." She whispered, moving her head forward until her lips brushed against his. "I've been known to go for _hours_."

"Been known?" He demanded, sliding his mouth against hers. "How often?"

"Oh now that's a little personal, don't you think?" She murmured smoothly.

"From what I can tell we've already jumped that particular hurdle," he continued, bringing his tongue out to touch the fullness of her bottom lip. "What I'd really like to do," he shoved his body just a bit closer to hers until she felt completely boxed in. "Is get a little _more_ personal. I also think that we would benefit from a night where both of us displayed our _particular _talents."

"Really?" She asked, careful to keep her voice steady.

Ichigo only smirked and twisted his head to the side. The power of his kiss was undeniable. It was hot and demanding and lustful and it seared through every part of her body. Her cheeks lit with flushed blood and her throat filled with moans when he pried her mouth apart and delved his tongue into her.

The light playfulness he had displayed earlier was gone completely. He growled like a beast as he plundered the softness inside of her mouth and ravished the outsides of her lips. His teeth would nip at her whenever she fought back. It was like he was trying to keep her in order, to tame her in this battle of wills. She wouldn't stand for it.

She reached her hands up and grasped the collar of his shirt. She tugged him down and surged back into the kiss. Her tongue wrapped around his and her teeth scraped against his lips as she grappled for the back of his head. Her hands wound into his hair and she let out a low, delicious, groan.

He must have been taken by surprise because for the first time she was allowed to take charge. Her tongue gently probed into his mouth while her hands wrapped around his neck and tangled into his hair. She tasted him thoroughly and felt like swooning. Behind the poignant flavor of his morning coffee was the spice of human maleness and the potent sweetness of sexual desire. Rukia shuddered and pushed herself further into him. His hands were still clutching the armrests to her chair and she took the opportunity she was afforded in his motionless state. Her lips curled into a soft smirk as she raised one of her legs and harmlessly pressed her knee into his crotch.

A vicious groan escaped Ichigo's mouth and she fought the urge to snicker. She ground her knee into his tented pants and increased the force of her delicious exploration. Ichigo growled low in his throat and lifted one hand from the armrest. She jerked in the chair and moaned into his mouth when she felt his strong hand grasp her breast.

Her mind raced to the night before, back to when she had stopped him from touching her. She had almost felt his skin against hers, almost felt the callous' of his fingers on the sensitive flesh of her breast… almost given in. Now here he was, touching her again, caressing her, and kissing her. Hadn't she promised herself that she would stay away from him? That his one kiss had been enough to fuel about a years worth of _business_ sessions—even though she swore she'd never have them again? Yes… yes she had.

But this felt _so _good and it had been such a long time since… since… well, since she had felt like this.

So why not? For a minute, at least. She groaned again and pushed her delicate breast against his palm. Just a minute, nothing more.

With one final taste of him she dug her fingers into her hair and yanked him back by his fiery locks. She let her knee drop at the exact moment he let out a small yelp of surprise and blinked furiously. Rukia saw what was brewing in his burning honey eyes, she had seen it before—not many times, but she knew what it was.

Sexual desire.

For once, she was glad she could see such desires in the eyes of someone who she _knew_ could actually act on it without feeling guilty or ashamed. Rukia blinked several times to clear her head of that thought. Great, one of the most fantastic kisses she had ever had and she was ruining it with thoughts of _him_.

_Oh well,_ she thought begrudgingly,_ at least it stopped me from doing something stupid._

He blinked several more times before focusing his burning eyes back on her. She swallowed at the raw power inside of them and forced her expression back into her normal poker-face.

"Well, Ms. Kuchiki," he said softly, squeezing her breast for emphasis. "What do you think?"

She steadied her voice and placed her hand on his wrist. "About what, exactly?"

"Displaying our talents." He demanded; he didn't take too kindly to her currently trying to remove his hand from her chest. If anything, he squeezed again.

Rukia shook her head slowly and placed both hands on his chest. "Sorry Kurosaki," she stated clearly, "I don't sleep with people I work with."

He didn't budge. "Is this a new rule?"

"No," she replied, "It's business one-oh-one. In order to have a successful business relationship with a coworker one must not engage in any sexual activity with them. By doing so both parties undermine the proficiency of their work as well as the integrity of their company." She pushed him away again and this time, he relented.

"Did you just quote that?" He asked sourly and incredulously.

_No, I made it up._

"Of course. It was in business Etiquette for the Highly Professional," she lied ostentatiously. Oh well, he wouldn't know the difference anyway.

She began to straighten her clothing and cleared her throat. "In March of next year, Kurosaki, I will be in a new office in a new position working with new people. I do not want anything I do here to interfere with that."

He looked at her in disbelief. "You're shitting me, right?"

"I am not."

"You're saying you don't want to sleep with me?" He scoffed, once again, in disbelief.

She turned to him and raised one delicate eyebrow. The look he was giving her… like it was completely inconceivable for someone not to want to sleep with him. Rukia bristled slightly at the slight.

Sure, there was physical desire playing against her common sense, but she'd never—absolutely never—let anything like physical desire override her common sense. How could she even think of throwing away her entire future on something that would only last a few minutes? Or, well, perhaps hours given his description of his talents. It was still completely insane; if she were to sleep with Ichigo Kurosaki she'd be jeopardizing everything she had worked for in the past eight years of her life.

_What's the big deal?_ Her irrational side whined, _why the hell not?_

Because she didn't want to be distracted. She wanted to keep her eyes on the prize, she didn't want a fling to come in the way of that, especially since it would probably be a fling she'd eventually regret. She could just imagine… years later, when she and he were still working for these companies he would only have to _mention_ sleeping with her for her to be discredited by her peers and her superiors.

"I, will not say that I don't want to sleep with you, Kurosaki, because by gauging my physical reactions, I do." She leveled her eyes with his and felt the need to squash the smug look of hope now crawling around on his face. "However, I will not sleep with you. Ever. That I can promise."

He cocked his head to the side, "So you want to but you won't?"

"It's called self control."

"It's called insanity." He shook his head and moved around to his own desk. "Don't you ever do anything that could be considered spontaneous? Don't you ever do anything just because you want to? Just because there's that carnal desire lurking inside of you?"

_The last time I did that I nearly upended my entire life._

"No," she told him. "I don't."

He slowly moved his head back and forth. He lifted his gaze to hers and allowed a small smirk to play on his pursed lips. Rukia could tell that he was angry… no, frustrated was more like it. He was frustrated with her. He hated that she was being so stubborn with her feelings. He hated that she was being so… methodical and logical.

"You're going to go back on your words, Rukia," he said in a low, quiet, voice.

"Go back on my word not to sleep with you?" She clarified acerbically, narrowing her eyes and snorting at the same time. "I doubt it."

"Doubt if you will, but I know you will."

"Whatever Kurosaki," she muttered, slightly disconcerted by the amount of _finality_ in his tone. He sounded so sure… so positive that she would end up in bed with him.

_In your dreams._

"We need to get to work on this file," she tossed it to him. "We're giving a presentation to the board next Friday. We need to be prepared and we need to be efficient. No mistakes." She eyed him angrily, "No more… _distractions._"

"Aye, aye, captain." He answered snidely before turning his attention to his computer and getting to work.

-!!-

It was Monday night. Momo had come over to show Rukia fabric samples for her bridesmaids dress. She was currently sitting on the elegant and comfortable companion chair that Rukia had bought to match her crème colored couch. A glass of ice water was in her right hand, the fabric samples were clutched in her left, and her mouth was hanging open.

Rukia sat calmly in the center of the couch. Her gaze was steeled on her friend's face, which was currently white, and she told herself to breathe normally. Her hands were clasped in front of her, hanging lightly between her knees. She was dressed in an oversized tee shirt and a loose pair of ratty shorts. Normal bedclothes for her. She wanted to be as comfortable as possible when she told Momo this. After all, if she somehow found out about it without Rukia telling her then she'd have absolute hell to pay.

Momo's mouth opened. It closed. It opened again. It closed again. She blinked several times.

"Are you alright?" Rukia asked slowly.

"I—I—" she gasped, Jesus Christ, even her body was shaking a bit. "I don't know." She shook her head several times, as if to clear it, and the leaned forward. "You _kissed _him?"

"I did." Rukia answered. "Twice." Adding it in as an afterthought.

"_Twice?_"

"Yes," she confirmed, "Once in the elevator after the party and once this morning." She paused for a moment before saying, "But then again… there was that time when I accidentally kissed him, on the cheek you know, and then he kissed my cheek in the early stages of the party. Then _I_ kissed _his_ cheek. How many times is that?"

Momo looked like an insect, one of those big bugs with the huge eyes. "That's… that like… five times!"

"More like three and a half," she reasoned, "Two actual times and then three half times."

"Still!" Momo exploded, the fabric samples dropped from her hands and she nearly upended her water glass in her unprecedented excitement. "Rukia! Oh my god! Do you know what this _means_?"

"That I kissed someone."

"No! Well, yes, but no!" Momo scooted forward until her hands were grasping at Rukia's wrists. "You kissed him back, right?"

"Right." She was trying to be scientific about this.

"So," Momo's face was glowing in happiness, "You like him!"

"That's a bit of an overstatement," Rukia muttered dryly, "I like the fact that he's got a nice body and has a penis as hard as a baseball bat."

"That hard?" Momo raised both eyebrows as high as they could go. "Metal or wood?"

"You wouldn't believe… and wood, definitely." Rukia murmured, remembering what he had said about his refractory period and going all night long. "Still, I'm not going to do anything with him. I swore it to him."

"Loser." Momo sniped lowly.

"What?" Rukia demanded, "Just because I don't want to ruin my future. What if, a few years from now, I'm in a business meeting with him, I say something he doesn't like, and he says something like… ah, 'Oh, well, you weren't talking like that when I slept with you.'" She gave a terrible impression of Ichigo's voice and wrinkled her nose. "One night with him could ruin everything I've ever worked for."

Momo looked at her sympathetically, "Honey, don't you think that he might just have a little more class than that?"

"No," was her immediate answer, "I don't." Her aura darkened and she shoved herself up from the couch. She flitted into the kitchen and pulled out a bottle of zinfandel. She tugged the cork out viciously and offered a glass to Momo, she declined because she was driving so Rukia just poured herself a glass. "Guys like that just make women notches on their belts." She called into the other room. "You should google him, his sexual history is longer than the Vietnam War Memorial… although not as sad." She sighed and came back into the room with her glass, "Models, actresses, gymnasts, ballerinas, and even some of his coworkers; you name it and he's had his cock in it."

"Not you."

"Of course not me," she snapped, sinking heavily into the couch. "I have a brain and not just a sex drive."

Momo rolled her eyes theatrically, "But that's just it, Rukia, you don't have sex drive. You've been celibate for what… four years?"

"Three and a half." She corrected dryly, letting the fruity taste of the wine slip over her tongue. "And I told you, I get by just fine on my own."

"But Rukia," she whined, "You need to have a sex life. Sex is a healthy part of you and you can't deny it."

"I can if I want to." She grunted, "Mind over matter."

Momo pressed the heels of her hands against her eyes and sighed, "Hon, I can't go three _days_ without having sex with Shiro… in some form or another." She sighed pitifully, "Three years… I can't imagine it."

"I get by."

"What you need is to get laid." Momo shook her head and stared down at the carpet, "But there's no convincing you, is there?"

"No." Rukia gnashed her teeth together and took a large gulp of her wine, "You know… he even made a bet with me."

"A bet?"

"Well," she amended, "It wasn't exactly a _bet _bet, but he said… he said, 'You're going to go back on your words, Rukia,' Yeah, as if."

Momo just gave her a strange, calculating, look, before shrugging and picking the fabric samples up from the floor.

"I'm thinking silk, Parisian." She offered it to her, "What do you think?"

-!!-

The next two weeks passed by with grueling efficiency. Rukia worked to the bone, she took files home, studied them over and over, wrote up reports, kept Ichigo in the loop, and tried desperately to meet the quota she had set before they made their presentation. She worked like a machine, cutting lunch meetings with Momo short, delaying their time at the gym, and staying after for a few nights. She needed to make sure that they finished.

She had also buried herself into her work because she didn't want Ichigo to bring up the little… _conversation_ they had had last Monday. Whenever it looked like the two had a moment where work was not an issue, whenever he gave her an across-the-office smirk, and whenever he felt the need to casually brush his arm against hers, she always walked calmly back to her desk, pulled out another file, and set herself to work… again. Rukia suspected he knew that she was doing. Throwing herself into her work was always the way she coped with things like this. When her brain was occupied by so much work thinking about sex really wasn't an option.

Oh _sex_… Ichigo hadn't made life easier on her either. He wasn't even really doing anything. He was just being… Ichigo. He would bend over her body when looking at files. He would smirk at her as though he was thinking naughty things. He would stand close enough that she could smell the delicately powerful scent of his aftershave. He would call her 'Sunshine' in a voice that was made for sin.

Still, it wasn't like she could actually scold him for that. These last few days he had been working just as long as she. If it hadn't been for his dogged work ethic she was quite positive that they wouldn't have been ready to present to the board. So she couldn't really gripe at him for being at work with her most of the time. At least, not without him stopping work in general.

Rukia sighed as she smoothed over her best suit and skirt. She didn't want to think about this right now. Not when she was pacing outside of the boardroom. Not when her notes were being read over by Ichigo. Not when he was sitting lazily in a waiting chair. Not when there were about twelve men—yes, all men—in the room she was next to, talking and sipping coffee and waiting to pounce. Not when she was supposed to give a very large presentation to all these men, whose net worth's ranged from a few million to a couple billion.

"Relax Rukia," Ichigo told her from his spot in the chair. "None of them are going to eat us."

"Have you finished reading it yet?" She demanded, choosing to ignore his comment.

"Yes."

"Have you reread it?"

"Yes."

"Are you sure you know all the material?"

"No."

"_What_?" She shrieked, turning to him in a flurry of vengeance, panic, and anger.

He didn't even have the decency to look the least bit alarmed at her temper. "I was kidding!" He snorted, laughing slightly. "Geez, lighten up."

Rukia continued pacing. Her severe shoes cut deliberately into the carpet and her heels—which should have been muffled considering the environment they were walking on—were still clicking. The secretary—an elderly woman neither of them had ever met before—was staring amusedly at her. Her mouth seemed to be in a tight line, as if to keep her from smiling at the sight.

"Easy for you to say." Rukia exhaled, she pressed a hand to the top of her head and closed her eyes tightly. "All of those men in there are just waiting for us to trip up. Waiting for _me_ to trip up." She pressed one hand to her stomach and resumed her pacing. Ichigo's eyes followed her in amusement. "This is ridiculous," she muttered, "I feel like I'm going to throw up."

"Well don't," he told her, leaning back and closing his eyes casually, "I'd hate to go in there alone." He shrugged one shoulder and continued, "Then again, you'd probably just come in anyway with vomit running down your shirt."

Rukia tossed her head to the side and shrugged as well, "Yes, actually, I probably would."

The secretary let out a small snort but Rukia ignored it. She took a swift glance to the clock on the wall and groaned. It was only a few minutes before they were supposed to go in. Three minutes to ten. She was supposed to go in and give their presentation.

The phone on the secretary's desk buzzed and Rukia jumped slightly before zeroing in on the woman and staring at her as though she was a carcass and Rukia was a vulture. She picked up the phone and answered.

"Yes… alright." The woman said in a sweet voice. She turned to the two of them, "You may go inside now."

"Thank you." Rukia said in a clipped voice and went straight for Ichigo. She snatched the folders out of his hands, brushed off any invisible marks he might have left, and twisted the knob to the door. She disappeared into the room and Ichigo followed.

Rukia felt like a kindergartener being sent to the principal's office because she had done something wrong. Her entire body quivered as she stepped into the huge office and took in what she saw. Her breath caught in her throat and she swallowed hard. Twelve men, each one of them older, distinguished, gentlemen, sat in twelve chairs surrounding an oval table. The front two seats were left open, apparently for the two of them, while a slide projector and a screen were available for anything these men would have to view.

She set all of her files on the smooth, heavy, wooden, surface and forced her shoulders back a bit. Sitting at the very end of the table was Sosuke Aizen. He smiled warmly at her and then to Ichigo, who was only inches behind her.

"Gentlemen," Aizen crooned, taking the attention of the room with only one measly word. "These fine people here are Ichigo Kurosaki and Rukia Kuchiki." He gestured to each one respectively and continued, "They are our top corporate lawyers and have been working on this merger since its conception. Please give them your attention as they explain what has been going on behind your backs." He said the last part jovially enough and the entire room chuckled.

Rukia didn't even have the time to be insulted that she was mentioned second. She stepped forward and grasped the folders she had prepared. "Good morning gentlemen." She declared with poise. Her nervousness was beginning to fade as her confidence in what she was about to say grew. All eyes were on her—she could surmise that it was for more than just plain old business interests—as she walked around the room and set a folder in front of each board member. Rukia smiled sweetly and made sure that each man got a whiff of the perfume she had put on this morning before she greeted each member by name. She had made sure to memorize all of them, just in case.

She came back to her original spot and stood like a statue. "What you have in front of you is a folder containing a detailed accounting of all the work my partner, Mr. Kurosaki, and I have been doing on this merger…"

Just like that, she was off. All of her nerves seemed to vanish the more she spoke to these men. All of them listened with a rapt attention that she knew only _she _could derive from such a room. They flipped with her through the folders when she told them about the projected earnings, the stock values, and how this merger would benefit their sector of the business world. The men nodded with her, asked her questions, and commented occasionally on matters associated with such a move.

When she was beginning to get hoarse, Ichigo took over. He spoke on the same subjects, interjected his own comments, and added a much needed level of testosterone to her presentation. She stood by and sipped her glass of water while he showed them the figures on the slide show they had created.

Rukia felt drunk with power. She loved this feeling. Absolutely loved it. She was in command of the entire attention of the room. She was high off of the respect they gave her. She was completely drinking in the nods, the comments, the grins, and the encouraging thumbs up that she would occasionally get from Aizen. It was intoxicating. She glanced up at the clock after a moment and raised an eyebrow. She had already been in here for nearly a half an hour. She hadn't even noticed.

Damn she was good.

"And if you see here," she said, taking up where Ichigo left off, "The projected earnings in the next decade would—" The door creaked open and Rukia ignored it. "—Increase by nearly doubles, even triples—"

"Excuse me."

Rukia turned her head in complete preparation to bite the skull off of the person who _dared_ to interrupt her on her power trip.

Orihime Inoue.

Rukia felt like snarling and lunging at the damn bitch. Her vision darkened as she had a brief visualization of herself clawing out Inoue's eyes and slamming her knee into her spinal column. Oh yeah, try walking after _that_, bitch. She shuddered… oh she'd like to see Inoue writhing in pain. It would definitely set her straight. Get her out of the way and keep her out of any future board meetings that Rukia might have to attend. She could only guess that Inoue had done this on purpose. Whore.

Maybe she could try to make her disappear using a meat grinder.

Rukia blinked once and turned her head away. Wow. Even _she_ was surprised at the violence of her thoughts. Was she really _that_ upset she had been interrupted? Maybe she was just doing it because she didn't like Inoue. Oh well… it wasn't like Rukia would actually hurt her.

Maybe.

"Ms. Inoue," Aizen said warmly and Rukia felt like gagging. Fantastic, now the big boss was all chummy with the secretary. How cliché was this? He wasn't even going to chastise Ms. Melon-Chest for interrupting their exceedingly important meeting. Bastard. "What can I do for you?"

"Actually sir," she said in her mawkishly timid voice. Rukia scoffed silently, she could see all of the men in the room losing their focus on her presentation. Instead they were looking at Inoue's more… _valuable_ assets. Rukia shot Ichigo a look of reproach but he wasn't looking at her. He was staring out the window, completely ignoring Inoue and everyone else. "There is a call here. It's for Ms. Kuchiki."

She answered immediately. "It can wait."

"I'm sorry, Ms. Kuchiki," Inoue murmured, playing the wounded puppy while Rukia took on the role of the eighteen wheeler about to kill her. "But this is the second time they've called and they're being very persistent about it."

"It can wait." She ground out again, making sure to enunciate threateningly.

"Ms. Kuchiki," Inoue said, her posture melted into a pose of caring eagerness even though Rukia could see the manipulative coldness that was lurking behind her steel gray eyes. "They asked me to get you immediately. They said it was _very_ urgent."

"Don't worry Rukia," Aizen chimed in from the back of the room, grinning softly at her even though her mouth was open for another retort. "One phone call won't hurt. We'll resume right after that"

Rukia wanted to kill _him_ too. Calling her Rukia like that in front of all of these professionals worth millions of dollars. Great, now she was off her power trip and back on the piece-of-ass wagon. All her respect was lost, just like that. Damn him. Damn Inoue. Damn that stupid phone call!

She gritted her teeth darkly and turned to stare at the phone on the table. Aizen, though trying to act like he cared, was probably just freeing up the floor so Ichigo could take things over. Get the woman out of the way for the big strong man. She gritted her teeth even harder and forced a smile onto her face. Christ she hated this.

"What line?" She deadpanned.

Inoue smiled happily and did a little jerky thing with her body where she jumped up on her toes and then came back down on her heels. Rukia noticed how every gaze in the room was locked on the way her breasts jiggled in response. "Two." She replied happily, apparently glad that she had ruined Rukia's life for today.

Rukia clicked her way over to the phone and brought the receiver to her mouth and ear. She pressed the button for the appropriate line and waited for the connection. Inoue had not left. She sent her a scathing glare but received nothing but an empty smile and a cold stare. Rukia noticed that she had started the breast-jiggling thing again.

_Great, just great, I try to appeal to their brains and she comes in and appeals to their dicks. _Rukia growled angrily. _Lovely._

"Hello. Hello?"

"Yes." Rukia's attention went back to the phone. "This is Rukia Kuchiki speaking."

"Ms. Kuchiki?" There was a slight pause and Rukia frowned when she heard a rather constant commotion seep in from the background.

"This is she." Rukia allowed a soft crease to come between her eyebrows and she pressed the phone closer to her ear. "Hello?"

Another rustle of paper. "Is this the sister of Byakuya Kuchiki?"

"Yes." Rukia sighed, now supremely irritated. "This is she."

"Miss, I'm sorry to inform you of this, but you're brother has been shot."

Rukia blinked twice, "I'm… sorry?" Her brother, really? Yeah right. Byakuya Kuchiki was practically made of steel. Byakuya wouldn't let himself be shot. He just wouldn't. It wasn't in his _schedule_.

"Your brother, Miss, he's been shot."

This person was obviously kidding. They had to be kidding. This was just some sort of sick joke. Rukia raised her head and glanced once around the room, half expecting to see hidden cameras somewhere in the ceiling. Or maybe one of these businessmen would rip off a fake face and yell 'You got punked!' or something. Maybe Inoue had set this up. She wouldn't put it past her. Maybe the bitch thought Rukia was encroaching upon her territory—Ichigo, of course—or something and wanted to scare her off. After all, she was the one who told her about the call. It was probably just a joke.

"Who paid you to tell me this?" She demanded, starting to get angry that this person would go so far for a couple hundred bucks.

Her eyes narrowed at that thought. Inoue probably didn't have a few hundred bucks to spare… but Ichigo did. Maybe he was the one who set this up. Maybe he wanted to get back at her for not sleeping with him. Now she definitely wouldn't put this past _him_.

"Excuse me?"

"Who?" Rukia ground out, rather embarrassed to be having this conversation in front of these million-dollar men, her boss, her coworker, and a woman she detested. "Who did it? I'll make sure they receive their proper punishment."

"Miss… I'm, ah, I'm telling you the _truth_. Your brother _has_ been shot. Twice. This isn't a joke. I promise."

This person wasn't kidding.

Now the panic was starting to set in. Rukia could feel her heart beating faster inside of her chest. Her jaw was trembling slightly. Her eyes opened a bit wider. Her breathing was becoming labored. Her skin was tingling so badly it felt like it was on fire. Her face was turning as white as a sheet.

"Wha… what…? A-Are you… are you _sure_? Maybe it's the wrong per-person…" She choked as she trailed off into a whisper. Out of the corner of her eye she saw Ichigo turn his head to her. Actually, the entire room now turned towards her. Most of the men had been watching Inoue and her breasts. But now, she guessed that she was more interesting. She placed her hand on the table for support. She needed the room to stop spinning.

"I'm sorry to be the one to tell you, Miss, but at about nine o'clock this morning your brother was shot twice while leaving his office building."

Rukia's lips were numb. "Where?"

"On the street next to—"

"I know where his office is!" Rukia shrieked, making several men in attendance jump out of their seats. Ichigo stood from his position at the window and walked over to her. His hand hovered near one of her shoulders. It was as if he wasn't sure he wanted to touch her. "Tell me where he was—where he was…"

"Stomach and shoulder." The person said. "We're trying to figure out if anything major was hit, organs and bones and such. He's in surgery right now at Karakura General. He's very unstable and he, well… he might not make it out. We just needed to inform you in case you wanted to come and—and… see him."

"Oh God." Rukia gasped, willing her heart to slow its frantic beating down. She felt like she was going to have a heart attack. "Yes… yes, of course. I'm coming right now." She slammed down the phone before she could even hear the traditional 'I'm very sorry' or the all too popular 'goodbye.'

She was numb. Her brain was numb. She just couldn't process what she had just heard. Rukia's limbs were shaking terribly as she dove into the corner of the room and grasped her purse—why had she brought it in here? Oh yeah, extra pens. She stood and lunged for the door, practically knocking Inoue over in the process. It was as though she was wearing horse blinders. She couldn't see anything but the door, the knob, and the exit.

"Rukia!"

Her name was yelled by two men at the same time. Rukia only looked at one of them.

Ichigo was standing in the spot next to the phone she had vacated, frowning in concern and looking slightly fearful at her reaction to the call. His hand was still extended; he was stepping forward a bit, approaching her cautiously as though she might attack him. "What's going on?" He asked her, his voice was soft and clear… it was even kind of caring.

Rukia could feel her entire body trembling against the door. She didn't know if her legs would be able to take being still. It was either get moving or crumble. She had to get out. She had to go.

"Just turn on the news," she told him, her voice was surprisingly hollow. "You'll see."

She turned and left, practically running down the hall.

-!!-

Ichigo stood in the spot where Rukia had been standing only moments ago. Hell, barely seconds ago. Everyone in the room had stayed in their respective seats, their eyes trained on the door, as if they half expected Rukia to come bursting through it again. They must have stayed like that for at least three minutes before someone coughed.

"Good God, what in the world was that?" Aizen asked; awe and incredulity was laced in his voice. He turned to Inoue. "Ms. Inoue, where in the world did that call come from? Do you have any idea why it would make Rukia leave in that manner?"

One man scoffed, "Women." A few of his companions chuckled and Ichigo raised his head darkly. He felt like punching all of them.

Inoue, who was standing still in her spot, turned to Aizen and blinked prettily. "I believe it was Karakura General Hospital, sir."

Ichigo took his attention away from those arrogant assholes and frowned at the phone. The hospital? Why in the world would the hospital call her? And why would she tell them to watch the news? What the hell was going on?

He stood stock still for a few seconds before he noticed something flitter on the edges of his vision. He glanced out the window and immediately raised both of his eyebrows. Rukia was down there.

Running.

He moved closer to the window and focused even more on her. He couldn't believe what he was seeing. She wasn't wearing her heels; instead, they were clutched tightly in her hands, swinging next to her body along with her purse. Her pantyhose were probably ripping on the concrete beneath her feet but she didn't look like she cared. She was bolting as fast as she possibly could down to the nearest metro station. Her hair was flying hard against her head and her arms pumped wildly in the confines of her jacket. Ichigo blinked down beneath them and frowned.

Something was really wrong, and surprisingly enough, that really didn't sit well with him.

**(A/N: Okay, first of all, PLEASE, PLEASE, PLEASE DO NOT KILL ME!! I am in love with Byakuya Kuchiki, I salivate over him whenever I see a sixty second clip of him in any Bleach episode. I adore him!**

**But…**

**Ah, his character just makes this really convenient. But yeah, I mean, schedule oriented? Pretty? His death could incur repercussions? Ah... ah... did I get you? To those of you who saw this coming I applaud your fantastic skills of deduction. (Bows.)**

**Moving on: Why the surprisingly early update? Because life is good and I felt like it. Also, it gives me something other to do than watching the Twilight trailer forty billion times whenever I'm on the internet—I don't know why, I'm like addicted to the trailer. Anyway, thanks to everyone who has shown their support for this story! I appreciate every single review!**

**PLEASE DON'T FORGET TO REVIEW!!**

**P.S. Did you know that this fic is now more than 405 pages on Word? And I still have about 100 left to go. Geesh.)**


	18. Chapter 17

**Disclaimer: I do not own Bleach or any Bleach affiliates.**

_**Odalisque**_

**Chapter 17**

Rukia shoved open the doors to the emergency room at Karakura General Hospital and nearly upended an old man using a walker. Her lacerated feet burned on the cool linoleum as she rushed into a halt. She didn't even have the time to mourn the loss of a perfectly good pair of pantyhose. Her frantic eyes swept the entire room, they passed by young mothers holding infants, children rushing by while their parents sneezed into tissues, men holding burned or sliced hands while wailing for a doctor, and old women scratching rashes while complaining about the wait.

She spotted the attendants desk. Her body barely registered anyone it ran into as she pushed her way further into the room. Her lungs screamed for air as she planted both of her hands on the counter hard enough to startle the nurse on call.

"My name is Rukia Kuchiki," she wheezed diligently, "My brother, Byakuya, was brought in for two gunshot wounds."

The nurse's eyes were puzzled for a moment before they widened in recognition. She nodded twice before motioning calmly to one of the seats in the waiting room. "If you'll take a seat I can—"

Anger flashed inside of Rukia's stomach. "I will _not_ take a seat, I will _not _be patient, and I _will_ see my brother _right now_!" She used the coldest, hardest, and most vicious voice she had in her arsenal of tones. Her eyes were as hard as diamonds and her hands were clenched into fists on the top of the counter.

The nurse jumped at Rukia's tone and the blood drained completely from her face. She jerked her head up and down, it looked like she was trying to nod but it just came out resembling some sort of seizure.

"O-okay… just, uh, just let me c-call back to-to th-them."

"You do that," Rukia seethed, not even bothering to pity the young woman. "_Now_."

The nurse fumbled with the receiver on her phone and pressed one button on the pad. She trembled in her seat and swallowed as she spoke, "S-She's here, si-sir, you told me t-to tell y-you." She nodded once before looking back up to Rukia, even though she didn't look her in the eye, more like the vicinity around her nose. "H-He'll be right o-out." She stammered.

Rukia's eyes narrowed and she clenched her teeth together. "Who? My _brother_ certainly can't walk."

"The… the… de—the detect—the—" the woman appeared to be wheezing and Rukia realized that she wouldn't have offered her a paper bag even if she was holding one in her hand.

"The detective." A heavy voice boomed from behind her. A tingle ran down her spine and for one, fleeting, moment the panic she was feeling for her brother evaporated, leaving only pure, unadulterated, relief in its place.

She swirled around and felt tears stinging at the backs of her eyes. "Renji!" She cried desperately, her voice breaking slightly at the sight of him.

Rukia couldn't believe it. Renji Abarai, her oldest childhood friend, was standing in front of her. He was nearly as tall as her brother and just as imposing. He possessed bright, shining, red hair that always seemed to be pulled back into an ostentatious ponytail. He had a broad, tan, face and a square jaw. His body, which was currently draped in a black overcoat despite the heat, was chiseled, she could tell that even from where she was standing. Yet what made him such a striking person to see was the pattern of tribal-like tattoos stretching over his forehead. Rukia knew for a fact that they also ran down his back and his chest. She remembered when he had gotten them done, he had been sixteen with a fake ID, she had been fifteen and had volunteered to watch. She recalled that they had bet on whether he would cry or not. She won. Plus she got the added benefit of seeing him writhe in pain for a month every time he tried to sit down.

Rukia's mind was flooded with memories as she thought of their time together as kids. They had been inseparable back then. All those summers with her sneaking away from her extra-studies to go down and hang out by the stream. All those late night ice creams. All those frog hunts.

Rukia's bottom lip trembled and she pressed her fingers against her mouth in an attempt to stop it. Renji was standing about seven feet away from her, but right now, it felt like miles. Her eyes roamed to his face and her eyes burned even fiercer. His face was so sincere, so kind… she remembered that face. Back when she had been younger it had always been in a smile, smirk, or frown of defiance.

They had parted ways in high school. Rukia had been on the straight and narrow after she and her brother had created a plan for her future. Renji had decided to join the police academy directly after graduation while Rukia went directly onto college. They had tried to keep in touch but in the end their schedules just became too much for either of them to handle. Rukia was overloaded with work and Renji was pulling overtime in order to train to become a detective.

She read about him, from time to time, in the newspapers, especially when he did something heroic, which he tended to do a lot—cats from trees, children from burning buildings, helping underprivileged youth, and so forth—and had always remembered to call him to wish him well on major holidays and on his birthday.

They had grown so out of touch lately… but now, oh Christ… why did they have to be brought back together like _this_?

He took a few steps forward until the outside of his coat was brushing against her. Rukia trembled as she felt his heavy hand drop onto her shoulder.

"It's good to see you again Rukia," he said softly.

She had to crane her neck to look up at him. Her mouth twitched into a smile and she nodded, "Good to see you too, Renji." She bit her lip and glanced to the side of the hospital room. "Where's Byakuya?" She whispered, not being able to meet his gaze.

"He's still in surgery," he said gently, rubbing his thumb against her jacket. "It could be a few more hours."

"Oh God…" she gasped. "How is he?"

"Critical." He murmured. "But they have hopes."

"Are you investigating the case?" She said quietly. She looked up at him hopefully, "Can you tell me what happened?" She reached out and pulled one of his hands into both of hers. "Renji, please… I—I need to know…"

"Come on," he said gently, taking hold of her elbow and leading her towards a quieter end of the hospital. "Let's get away before you give any of the other nurses strokes."

She chuckled humorlessly and walked with him, her bare feet echoing dully on the linoleum floors of the hospital wing. She cursed herself for not putting her shoes back on, even though they were wedged harmlessly into her purse. She couldn't very well run in high heels even if not wearing them did make her feel much shorter than an average person. They continued walking until there were no signs of doctors, nurses, or those annoying candy striper people who were always too cheerful for their own good.

Renji held on firmly to her elbow, as if he was afraid she would lose it if he let go. Rukia shook her head half in defeat and half in disgust. Why did everyone have to think that she would become this psychotic, hysteric, woman if she didn't have a man looming over her at all times? She was totally in control of herself. She could handle this.

She gently eased her elbow out of Renji's grip and he slowed to a halt. She turned to him and crossed her arms against her chest. This was time to become business Rukia once again. She couldn't afford to be weak Rukia right now.

"What happened Renji?" She said in a low and plain voice.

He heaved a heavy sigh and stuffed both of his hands into his pockets. "You're brother was shot twice as he left the Kuchiki Corporation building this morning. He was going to meet a client when he took two bullets, probably from a sniper rifle of some sort. My people are combing the rooftops as we speak."

"In broad daylight?" Rukia demanded, her eyes were wide and the expression on her face was one of complete horror. "How could someone do that?"

"We think it was a professional," Renji added, he brought his hands out, dug them into his coat pockets, and pulled out a notepad and a pen. "Do you know anyone who would hate your brother enough that they'd hire someone to kill him?"

Rukia's jaw dropped his disbelief. "Only every other top company that wants the defense contract my brother has! It's worth billions of dollars!" She cried.

"But anyone specific…" he trailed off, waving his pen in the air, as if that was supposed to jog her memory.

"No one specific." She grumbled softly, crossing her arms defensively across her chest.

"Okay," he said softly, "Do you think they could have wanted to get to you?"

"Are you kidding?" She demanded, now getting a bit annoyed. She knew that Renji was only doing his job but honestly, her brother had _so_ many more enemies than she did. If someone wanted to get to her… well, there were better ways to get to her than through her brother.

"I guess that's a no."

"You guess right, genius." She snorted acidly.

"Don't make this any harder than it has to be," Renji told her gently, "I'm just trying to get the facts straight."

"Sorry," she muttered. "I know you're doing your job."

"What about his personal life?" He asked.

"Nonexistent."

He raised an eyebrow at her, "One of the most eligible men in the entire universe and he doesn't have women throwing themselves at him?"

Rukia shrugged one shoulder up, "Of course they do, he just doesn't reciprocate." She shifted queasily, "There hasn't been anyone since Hisana."

"You sure about that?"

"Absolutely."

Renji flipped the pad over and frowned, making his eyebrows tattoos ripple on his forehead. "Okay… ah, anyone who might have an outstanding grudge from when he was younger?"

"No one," Rukia replied, "Except maybe people he's worked with, but even then… this is going a bit far." She bit her lip and looked away. "I mean, sure he's ruthless when it comes to his company but he… he's always fair."

"I see," he muttered, "Okay… what about his schedule, does it vary?"

"Barely," she muttered, "You can check with his secretary, she should have all of his information."

"Alright," Renji flipped his pad closed and stuffed it inside of his jacket. Rukia saw his coat flap open a bit, revealing his shiny, detective's badge to the fluorescent lights around them. It glittered a few times before being covered by the heavy fabric. "Well, I think that's all we have for right now, if I think of anything else…" he trailed off, staring nervously at the floor.

"Oh," Rukia started, getting exactly what he meant. She reached inside of her pocket and pulled out a blank business card. She made sure to write her cell phone, home, and office, number onto it before she handed it back to him. "Right, all of my numbers are on this card." She passed it to him. "Call me if there are any developments."

"Good," he stuffed it into his other pocket and turned to face her. Rukia could have laughed at the differences between them. Tall verses short, red hair versus black, marked skin versus milky white, sympathetic versus horrified, and steel-toed boots versus bare feet and ripped stockings.

"Hey listen," he said awkwardly, scratching the back of his neck with his large hand, "I'm sorry we had to meet up like this after all this time…"

"Yeah," she whispered, crossing her arms tightly against her chest.

"If you ever need anything," he said, pulling out his own card and handing it to her, "Just call me. We'll get a drink or something."

"Okay." Her voice was soft and her eyes were glazed.

"You gonna stay here?" He asked.

Rukia drew in a deep breath and nodded. "Yeah… I might call Momo in a bit, tell her where I am and all that, but… ah, I'm going to stay."

"I have to warn you," he said after a minute, "He was… shot, in broad daylight and since your brother is such a prominent figure, well, reporters will be all over this. I wouldn't be surprised if there are a few out in the waiting room, right now."

"I know better than to talk to them about anything." She muttered, angered that there were people out there who would act like such vultures at the first sight of a carcass. Her brother had just been _shot_ for God's sake and here they were, hoping to make a quick buck on the Kuchiki family's misery.

"Okay, just making sure you'll be alright." He tried to smile as comfortingly as he could and reached out to pat her on the shoulder. His hand lingered for a few moments before he nudged her shoulder, feeling a bit uncomfortable. He let his hand fall and he sighed. "I need to get going. We need to secure the scene from the public's piranhas." He laughed humorlessly and nodded once, "He'll be happy to see you… when he wakes up."

"Yeah," she murmured, the realization that such a statement was blatantly false mixed with the horrible, boiling sensations of fear that were currently taking root in the pit of her stomach. "See you around, Renji."

"See ya." He said once more before giving her one last, lingering, glance, turning, and walking away.

Rukia was left standing under a fluorescent light, her torn, dirty, and bloody feet staining the linoleum floor. She was fighting not to curl into herself as she listened to the echoing noises around her. She pressed a hand to the bridge of her nose, squeezed her eyes shut, and told herself not to cry.

-!!-

Ichigo stood in Aizen's office, leaning against his boss's desk while said boss sat in his thick leather chair, a television remote was in his hand, and his mouth was parted in surprise.

Aizen's eyes were wide and his mouth was also ajar. "Oh my goodness," he gasped.

Ichigo stood stoically as he watched the ugliest newscaster he had ever seen come closer to the camera and begin to tell the story that was currently running over every network in the area.

"There was a surprise today in the Karakura Business District when business mogul Byakuya Kuchiki was shot twice in broad daylight near his uptown office building."

The television flashed to a scene of the crime, yellow police-tape decorated the area like tinsel on a Christmas tree, cops in uniform and plain-clothed officers flittered around while tourists and paparazzi took photos from every angle they could.

"The police are refraining from releasing a statement at the moment but they say a fully-fledged investigation has been instigated."

"Yes, well, you'd think so, wouldn't you?" Aizen grunted exasperatedly.

"Byakuya Kuchiki is the owner of the Kuchiki Corporation. Not much has ever been released concerning the Kuchiki Corporation's business practices, but they do have rights to the largest defense contract in the nation." The man paused for a moment, pressed his listening device further inside of his ear and frowned softly. He looked back up at the camera and cleared his throat.

"This just in, Byakuya Kuchiki was taken to Karakura General Hospital where he is currently undergoing surgery. His condition, they say, is very critical."

He looked back the scene and then turned to the camera once again. "Byakuya Kuchiki is forty five years old, his late wife, Hisana Kuchiki, died several years ago of cancer. The only other member of his family is his sister-in-law and corporate attorney, Rukia Kuchiki."

Ichigo lifted the remote and flipped off the television. He set it down on his boss's desk and quietly sat where he was.

"Well that would explain why she left so suddenly." Aizen commented, trying to make light of the situation.

Ichigo didn't turn but scowled at him nonetheless. "I wonder if her friend knows." He muttered.

"Who?"

Ichigo rubbed his hand over the back of his neck. "Her friend, Momo Hinamori, I wonder if she knows. She'd probably want to be with Rukia."

"You may call her if you want." Aizen said, motioning to the phone.

"I'll do that." He said softly. He sighed heavily and moved his weight onto his feet. For some reason, he felt incredibly heavy. "I'm going to get back to the office."

"Alright," Aizen said as cheerfully as he could.

Ichigo only stared off into space. "I think I'll leave early today, you know, go by the hospital, makes sure she doesn't go twenty four hours without eating something."

"Good," Aizen smiled as Ichigo walked towards the door. He had just reached one hand to the knob when his boss's voice stopped him. "You… like Ms. Kuchiki?"

Ichigo turned around and blinked, his scowling face taking on a new look of surprise. "Huh?"

"Ms. Kuchiki," he said, staring clearly at him, "Do you like her?"

"She's okay to work with." Ichigo answered immediately, not liking where this conversation was going, or the fact that it was actually going somewhere… with his boss.

Aizen just smiled warmly and laughed heartily. "Ichigo, I saw you at the merger announcement, you could barely keep your eyes off of her."

"She looked good in that dress," he shrugged, trying to sound as nonchalant as possible. "I'm a healthy man, its common."

"Yes, yes…" Aizen chuckled, "Of course." He began shuffling papers on his desk and smiled. "Tell Ms. Kuchiki I said hello."

"Sure," Ichigo grunted, exiting the office quickly. As he moved down the hallway he felt a small shudder run through his body. Damn, in the space of three minutes that was definitely the creepiest his boss had ever made him feel.

He checked his watch. It was nearly three o'clock in the afternoon. He ran a hand down his face and groaned. He'd call Momo, gather a few things from his office, go buy a sandwich or two from a vendor, and go to the hospital.

He wouldn't want her to get any worse.

-!!-

Hospital chairs were uncomfortable. Rukia would know, she'd been sitting in one for the past six hours. It must have been something with the plastic; it was probably melted wrong, making the sitter wiggle every six seconds in order to find a comfortable position. Then there were the cheap, flea infested, paisley cushions they threw over them. They, of course, were stained with urine, blood, and baby vomit and smelled like they were first created in a dung factory.

Rukia felt half of her butt go numb so she shifted to the other side. It didn't make much of a difference though. The other side of her butt was just as numb. She groaned and placed an elbow on the plastic armrest. She pressed her fingers to her tired eyes and wished she hadn't run out of headache pills.

Six hours. Six freaking hours and he was still in surgery. Six freaking hours and he was still in critical condition. Six freaking hours of glaring at nurses and asking questions from any doctor that passed by yet getting absolutely nothing in return. Six freaking hours and there were still reporters buzzing around, not even deterred by the police guard standing outside. Six whole hours of sitting here on this terrible chair while her career might be in ruins, her boss was probably ready to fire her, and her partner more than likely botched the rest of the presentation. Six whole hours of thinking that any doctor that passed through those swinging doors was going to come to her and begin a sentence with 'I'm sorry, we did all we could…"

Rukia shifted again and moved to the other side of her butt. She needed to walk around or something, but she didn't want the reporters outside to catch a glimpse of her looking so… disheveled, nor did she want to leave in case a doctor actually came out to tell her something useful. Although the disheveled reason was more pertinent at the moment. She still hadn't even bothered to put her heels back on or fixed her red, puffy, eyes. Plus, the only doctors she had seen were not involved at all with her brother's case. They were just… there.

She sighed heavily and moved to the other side of her butt. Why did today have to start out so great and then turn so ugly?

"Rough day?"

Rukia looked up as a rather plump man took a seat next to her. She narrowed her eyes at him and he immediately became uncomfortable. For the past six hours she had dutifully kept everyone at least three seats away from her. Even that little boy who tried to ask her where his Mommy was. Her response—_how the fuck would I know?_—had him crying, yet oddly enough, she hadn't felt bad about it. Brat.

Rukia's eyes skimmed over him. He was dressed in a pair of blue jeans, a rather grimy shirt, and was clutching his right hand in his left. There was a very tiny cut on his palm yet he was treating it as if it was a stab wound and blotting it out with a piece of cloth. Rukia's eyes slid up to his face and scowled at what she saw. His eyes were too bright, his expression was too eager, and his attention was too sharp, it as if he was there only to _memorize_ everything she had to say.

Rukia turned and hunched over in her chair, placing her elbows on her knees, "No comment." She snipped loudly.

He blinked a few times before leaning away from her. She could tell that he was panicking. His eyes were searching the room from side to side, he was beginning to clutch his palm even tighter, and his body began to twitch.

"No comment?" He snorted, trying to sound confused but only succeeding with nervous. "What do you mean?"

"Officer," Rukia called out to one of the cops that had been stationed inside of the hospital waiting room. The man beside her began to panic as the cop took a few steps closer to them. Rukia motioned to her seat companion, "This man is a reporter. Kindly remove him."

The officer nodded once and shot his hand out, gripping the arm of the sneaky journalist before he could bolt. "W-wait!" He cried desperately, "I—I'm injured! My hand is cut! It's bleeding!"

Rukia, her temper frayed enough to kill, stood up, took two steps forward, shot her hand into his jean pocket, and pulled out his press pass. She dangled it in front of his face and snarled, "_Your_ lanyard and press pass, I assume?"

His face bloomed into a purplish-red color. "Come on," the cop grunted, dragging him towards the exit.

"Bitch!" He yelled at her. Rukia just ignored him and chucked his press pass into the nearest trashcan. "I had to cut my own _hand_ to get in here!"

"Try going a few feet south next time," she barked, "Cut something a little less valuable." She walked back to her seat and slumped down into it. She rubbed her eyes with the palms of his hand and exhaled fitfully. She could feel a few people around her giving her strange looks but she ignored them. Damn reporters… so what if she was rude to them? They were trying to dig into her life, expose her familial pain, and plaster it over every newspaper, internet website, and radio they could get their hands on. She had every right to be mad at them.

She jumped nearly two feet into the air when a shrill peal echoed from her purse and into the waiting room. She dove for her leather bag immediately and pulled out her cell phone before it could make another desperate cry for attention.

"Hello?" She asked, flipping it open and not even bothering to look at the caller I.D.

"Is this Rukia?"

She frowned softly and pressed the phone closer to her ear. This voice sounded familiar… she just couldn't… "This is she."

"Oh, good." He said, a rush of relief evident in his voice, "Hey Rukia, its Ichigo."

Great, now her brain had gone numb _along_ with her butt. "Huh?" She said, her tone strange and confused, "How did you get my number?"

"Rukia!" There was someone else with him, someone in the background, someone that Rukia recognized immediately, "Rukia! It's me, Momo! I'm here with Ichi—"

"She gave it to me," he said, cutting Momo off. "Would you tell that cop outside to let up in? They're only letting in people if they're missing limbs or bleeding."

"Are you missing a limb or bleeding?" Rukia demanded. "Is Momo?"

"I brought you a sandwich."

Rukia's stomach growled the moment the word 'sandwich' left his mouth and traveled to her ear. She sighed heavily and heard him snicker on the other end. She could only guess that Momo was still bouncing anxiously beside him. "Wait a second." She said tonelessly.

She raised her head and called to the officer, he came over immediately, his eyes scanning the waiting room before going to her. "Yes ma'am?"

"Miss," she corrected automatically, "There are two people outside I'd like to see. Ichigo Kurosaki, he has bright orange hair, and Momo Hinamori, she'll be bouncing up and down next to him." She gave him a hard stare and continued, "Do you think you could bring them in? They're waiting outside."

"Of course," he said, nodding his head once before going towards the door.

Rukia put the phone back to her ear and said, "The rent-a-cop is coming to get you."

"Excellent," he muttered sarcastically and she clipped the phone shut.

It took all of twenty seconds before Momo came barreling into the room at full running speed. Her wide eyes searched around the room until they landed on Rukia, slumped over, dead tired, and barefoot.

"Rukia!" Momo sobbed, she brought a hand up to cover her mouth before rushing over to her friend. She barreled into the seat next to her and wildly grasped for any body part she could get a hold of. "I'm so sorry I wasn't here earlier! I only first heard when Ichigo called and told me! Are you okay? How's your brother?"

"I'm fine," Rukia sighed, wincing at just how hard Momo was actually squeezing her wrist. "But Byakuya," she closed her eyes for a moment and gritted her teeth together. "He's… well, last I heard he was critical. They won't tell me anymore than that." Another doctor passed breezily through the doors and Rukia's head immediately shot towards them. But no, his scrubs weren't covered in blood, he couldn't have been the one who operated on her brother.

"Oh Rukia…" Momo's eyes were already watering.

"The reporters are just making it worse," she muttered, sending an angry stare towards the people outside of the doors, "One guy even cut his own hand trying to get in here."

"_No!_" Her friend gasped, completely horrified.

Rukia nodded solemnly and turned her head to see Ichigo standing awkwardly beside them. She craned her neck back and blinked. She couldn't tell which was brighter, the fluorescent lights or his hair. Either way, the way they bounced off each other was quite disgusting.

Or maybe it was pretty. She was really too tired to tell right now.

He looked down at her the moment she looked up. Her eyes met with his and sudden warmth flooded its way into her stomach. She was actually… _happy_ to see him. Even his hair—in all of its ridiculous luminosity—made her feel a bit better. Her gaze broke contact with his and she traveled the trail of his body to his hand. Her stomach clenched in hunger when she saw the heavy bag.

"Is that my sandwich, Kurosaki?" She demanded, a light breeze wafted through the place, tickling her nose with the delicious scent of warm, soft, bread, cheese, and meat.

He smirked and handed her the bag. "I hope you like panini's."

"Love them." She muttered, shooting her hand out and crinkling the paper in her tight fist. She nearly ripped the bag in an attempt to dislodge the Italian sandwich from the inside. She bit into it and moaned softly. She hadn't eaten anything since nearly twelve hours. Eating this perfect sandwich was like having a mouth orgasm.

"Jesus Christ," she muttered, her voice muffled through the bread, "Where did you find this?"

"Little bistro a ways away from the office." He shrugged.

"Well it's fantastic." She mumbled. "You're going to have to tell me where it is."

Momo tittered beside her as she practically swallowed the sandwich whole. "Maybe Ichigo could take you there sometime." She said after a moments silence.

Rukia glared over at her friend; her hunger, exhaustion, and frayed nerves making her even angrier at that comment than it should have. Momo only shrugged once before she began to listlessly look around the waiting room.

"How long have you been here?" She asked absentmindedly.

"Since around ten or ten thirty." She mumbled miserably, searching through the bag and finding—oh bless his heart—another sandwich. This one had turkey instead of ham. She looked at him appreciatively and he smirked back.

"Did you have to talk to any cops?" Momo asked after a moment. "I saw lots of them around."

"Actually," Rukia sighed softly, "I did. But it was someone I knew."

"Really? Who?" This time it was Ichigo who spoke.

"Renji Abarai," Rukia muttered through a mouthful of God's manna. "I grew up with him and he became a police detective."

"Abarai?" Momo murmured, "I'm not sure I really know him…"

"I haven't been in contact with him for a while." She said as she swallowed a larger-than-her-fist chunk of food. "But it was good to see him again, considering the circumstances."

"Oh… that's nice."

Rukia tilted her head upwards and frowned at Ichigo. He was just standing there, hands in his pockets, looking around, and waiting. She turned towards Momo, she was picking at a stray string on her skirt.

Her mind clouded over for a moment and she sighed. This was sweet… but being here just to be here, if it was any type of inconvenience… She didn't want to be the pathetic person in the hospital who had her friends stay with her even though she didn't need them. Well, maybe 'didn't need' was a stretch. She wanted them here but honestly, was she going to sit around gossiping with them while her brother was in surgery? She'd probably just clam up and worry some more. It wasn't really right to inflict that kind of pain on either Momo or Ichigo.

She snorted softly and drew both of their attentions towards her, "You guys don't have to stay here, you know."

Momo was on the defensive immediately. Of course she had to stay, she had to support her best friend, she had to be with her in her time of need.

"Momo," Rukia ground out, she knew she should have been appreciative, but at this moment, her best friend's chipper voice was just grating on her already frayed nerves. "You guys are just going to be bored. Listen, I appreciate you two coming here, I really do, but I know you guys have plans—" She saw a guilty look appear on Momo's face and she twiddled her fingers nervously, Ichigo just looked impassive, "So it's really no problem if you leave. I'm just going to stay here until the doctors tell me he's alright."

"But Rukia!" Momo cried, "That could be days!"

"Yeah," she sighed and then looked over at Ichigo. "You think you can hold down the fort for a while?"

A smug grin appeared on his face, "Are you kidding? A few days without you is a dream come true." He chuckled lightly and brought his hand up to the side of his face, indicating that she had some food stuck on her.

Rukia raised her own hand and brushed a glob of mayonnaise away from her face—not that it didn't blend in perfectly anyway. "Or maybe I should just call Inoue and take her up on that offer to work with you for a few days."

His smirking mouth flat-lined and his eyes widened. "You wouldn't."

"Oh wouldn't I?" She smiled charmingly, a veiled threat in her tone.

"Then again," he muttered, "I guess I wouldn't put it past you."

"Thank you." She said, quirking one side of her mouth up in an attempt to smile.

"Just don't do anything rash," he muttered, "It might come back to bite you in the—"

"Doctor!" Rukia cried sharply. A woman wearing an emergency mask, green scrubs covered in copious amounts of blood, and a very exhausted expression lifted her head and glanced in Rukia's direction.

She was out of her seat in a shot and over to her in nearly three seconds. Momo followed quickly but hovered a few feet behind, Ichigo stood where he was, his eyes watching her softly.

"Miss Kuchiki, I presume," said the tired woman, she held out her hand and Rukia took it immediately. She noted the woman's firm grip and agile-looking fingers and immediately breathed a sigh of relief. Her brother had been in good hands, no matter the outcome, she knew that she had tried her best.

"You presume correctly," she said in a terse, anxious, voice. "I assume you're the person who operated on my brother?"

"You assume correctly," she answered in a ghost of a smile. "My name is Dr. Retsu Unohana."

"My brother…" she began, her voice faltering slightly. "Is he…?"

"He's… alive," she said slowly, choosing her words carefully. "We were able to remove the bullets and repair as much as we could. His internal organs are safe."

Rukia's heart dropped even further into her stomach. "But…"

"But he's in an extremely precarious condition." The doctor continued, "He could make it or he could go at any minute. We've done all we can. It's more his battle now than ours. We have him in the intensive care unit and we'll keep him there as long as possible."

"Is he awake?"

The doctor shook her head softly. "No… I'm afraid we've had to sedate him heavily. He won't be up for another day or so and even then… he might not wake up."

Rukia felt that burning sensation come onto her eyes once again. She swallowed heavily and bit her bottom lip even harder. She fought to remain her composure as she asked, "Is he in a coma?"

"Not exactly," Dr. Unohana murmured, "He's responsive, he's just in a very heavy sleep. It's up to him right now."

Rukia pressed her hands to her lips and closed her eyes. "I understand." She closed her eyes and drew in a very deep breath. "Can I see him?"

The doctor reached out and pressed her hand into Rukia's shoulder. She flinched at the touch and slowly looked down at the doctor's scrubs. There were so many red splotches on her clothing. Rukia felt a lump form in her throat and she shuddered softly. Her brother's blood… his blood… god there was so much of it. Hardly any green was left on the shirt. It was all so _red_…

She blanched slightly and felt her teeth clench together. "How… how much b-blood did he l-lose?"

Dr. Unohana looked down at her scrubs and then back up at Rukia. Her expression was one of sadness and of pain. She gently folded one arm over her stomach, as if attempting to hide Rukia's penetrating gaze from the redness staining her clothes.

Suddenly, Rukia was spun away from Dr. Unohana and her blood-stained clothing. Her body was propelled in a half-circle and lobbed into a very warm mass of fresh clothing and heady scents. She grappled for the thing even though she had no idea what it was. Her arms were folded between her body and unbelievable warmth spread into each of her limbs. Rukia pressed her face into that warmth and breathed in deeply. Heady, masculine, scents assaulted her nose and she found that she liked this more than she should. She even began inhaling more than she was exhaling it smelled so good.

"Shh," the thing said through the clouds in her mind. She swallowed and realized that she recognized that voice, that tone, and the limbs that were now encircling her. "You don't have to look at it. Don't worry."

"O-Okay," she muttered, clumsily jumping over the word that should have been so simple for her.

His arms hugged her tighter and she melted into them immediately. She felt so warm. All day she had been so cold, so full of fear, so exhausted… but now she was warm. Her little corner of the world finally had a bit of heat. She buried her face further into—what appeared to be—his shirt and sighed. She felt something heavy on top of her head and realized that it was Ichigo's chin. How odd that after so long of alternately hating and desiring him that she was now finding comfort in his strong embrace. This was so strange… but so nice too.

"It's alright, Rukia." He murmured, "Don't think about it."

She nodded silently and slowly drew in his perfect scent once again.

"Come on, you don't have to stay here." He said softly.

Rukia didn't want to move but her head shook on it's own volition. "I can't just leave him."

"You heard what the doctor said," Ichigo told her quietly, she started when she felt his hands rubbing slowly up and down her back. Any other day she would have assumed that he was coming on to her. Today though… it was just a comfort. "He won't be conscious for another day or so. You need to think about yourself. Go home, sleep, and take tomorrow off."

A protest bubbled on her tongue but she shoved it down. She had already planned to take tomorrow off. She needed to be here with Byakuya and one day certainly wouldn't kill her. Ichigo could take care of it. She didn't even feel like calling in Inoue since he was being so nice to her.

"Okay," she murmured, nuzzling her nose into his shirt. She sighed heavily and started to detach herself. She didn't want to let this go any further than it already had.

He held on fast. "Who are you and what have you done with Rukia?" He asked teasingly, referring to her easy acceptance of his directions.

A weak, barely alive, chuckle ran through her body and she shook her head against him. He kept rubbing her back as though there was nothing else for him to do today. She smiled softly and stepped away from him quietly. He finally acquiesced and let her slip away. Rukia turned and found that Dr. Unohana had disappeared, leaving a smiling nurse in her place. Even though Rukia had a sneaking suspicion that she wasn't smiling just to try and brighten spirits. She had no doubt seen their embrace.

_Stupid… nosy… vile woman_, Rukia thought angrily, taking another step away from where Ichigo stood. If he noticed anything he didn't give any indication.

"Miss Kuchiki?" The nurse said softly, Rukia turned to her fully and looked closely at her name tag. Kotetsu Isane was her name. She looked nice enough. The pink scrubs also did something to soften her image. The lack of blood splatter also helped.

"Yes?" She answered, her voice getting that solid edge on it again.

She handed Rukia a card, which she took immediately, and smiled. "I was told to give you this. It has Dr. Unohana's phone numbers on it as well as the number of the room your brother is staying in. If you call we will connect you directly to Dr. Unohana, she'll be monitoring your brother every step of the way."

Slight surprise entered Rukia's head as she took the card into her hands. This was an awful lot to do for just one patient. But then again, Rukia guessed that there weren't many patients who could donate millions of dollars to any singular hospital with just the twirl of a pen.

"Thank you." She said with a small amount of amazement, as well as cynicism, still in her voice.

"No problem," she said as smoothly as possible. "We're just glad we could help." She gave Rukia a sympathetic smile and then turned to exit down another hallway.

Rukia stood numbly in the center of the hospital waiting room. Her brain felt like a dead weight pushing on her temples and she raised her hand to rub them softly. She sighed heavily and shook her head before straightening her shoulders, stiffening her spine, and turning to Ichigo and Momo.

Momo had a smile on her face that made Rukia stare at her for just a minute longer. It was the secret type of smile, Mona Lisa-esque even. Rukia didn't like it. It made her remember days when children would tease her and say things like 'I know something that you don't know!'

She shifted her gaze over to Ichigo and saw that his eyes were gazing, hard and deep, into hers. She looked away after a moment and swallowed.

"I'm going home," she said quietly.

"I'll come with you." Momo offered. A little too quickly for Rukia's taste. What did she have up her sleeve?

"Alright," Rukia turned to Ichigo and smiled softly. "Thanks for coming… and bringing me food."

"Anytime," he said softly. Rukia's jaw tightened softly and in that moment. His eyes bored into hers so intensely, even standing in the middle of a hospital waiting room, exhausted and tired, she knew that he absolutely meant it.

**(A/N: Some IchiRuki interaction for you guys as well as a bit of Renji to add in some spice! He'll come up later on so don't worry about a Renji fix!**

**Okie dokie, I finally allowed anonymous reviews to be posted. Just a warning: If you want to flame my fic but don't have the guts to give me your contact info so I can respond, you're a coward. So if you start flaming me and just expect me to live with it, I won't. I'll respond to you right in the A/N section, that's how petty I can get.**

**Oh, also! Fathom-x did this so I suppose I can too! There's an IchiRukiLove group over on Yahoo, it was started by gokusgirl and is really great—there's a story contest going on and we have some really great entries, two of which I have written. So, check them out, vote for one, and continue in your IchiRuki ways!**

**PLEASE DON'T FORGET TO REVIEW! THANKS TO EVERYONE WHO HAS ALREADY REVIEWED AS WELL!!)**


	19. Chapter 18

**Disclaimer: I do not own Bleach or any Bleach affiliates.**

_**Odalisque**_

**Chapter 18**

The next morning went off as smoothly as mornings usually did for Rukia. She got up, got her morning coffee, went to the park, ran, came back, picked up the newspaper that was in front of the door, and went back in for breakfast. What wasn't normal about the morning was that usually, while she ate her cereal and drank another up of coffee, she didn't start choking at whatever appeared on the front page. She had to look at it for a good two minutes before she actually comprehended what it was.

On the front page was a grainy—but still irritatingly clear—photo of her wrapped in Ichigo Kurosaki's arms. The headline read: _Tragedy and Comfort; The Shooting of Byakuya Kuchiki_.

Two thoughts ran through Rukia's head when she saw this. The first one, of course, was: _Holy freaking mother-of-God shit!_ While the second thought centered more or less around: _Damn, Inoue is not going to be happy about this._

Once she had recovered enough to actually read some of the article she skimmed it quickly. Words like 'undetermined condition' and 'sources say' as well as 'no comment' and 'officials report' jumped out at her immediately. It was a basic synopsis of what had happened yesterday. Her brother had been shot, taken to Karakura General, they gave a small bio about his life, and then they mentioned her visit to the hospital. It was only a tiny bit of information but the writer, who seemed to have a certain knack for embellishment as well as a passion for large adjectives, made it through the entire front page and even a bit more into the paper. Rukia grimaced softly and noticed the author.

"Tatsuki," she grumbled, "I should have known."

Oh well, at least she hadn't pumped Ichigo for any information. Or maybe she had and he just hadn't given any. She shrugged. Either was a possibility but the latter was the one that made Rukia's stomach twist with something akin to… appreciation.

She finished her coffee and her breakfast and began to dress for the day. She chose her most comfortable pair of jeans, a loose, cotton tee shirt, sneakers, and a light jacket, in case the hospital was a bit cold. She also picked up a small bag and began to take things from her the large, back part of her closet. She had to grab a chair and look over several boxes before she was able to find what she was looking for.

After minutes of fruitless searching she finally picked up an old cardboard box and brought it in front of her. She blew dust away from the top and slowly took off the lid. Inside she immediately reached for the small box that contained a delicate pearl necklace and matching earrings. She carefully placed it inside of her bag and continued searching. Also inside the box she found a shirt made of fine China silk. It was powder blue and had a very classic air about it. She folded it delicately, placed it in a small, plastic bag, and put it beside the necklace. Next on her list was a small bottle of perfume. She took off the cap for a moment and sniffed it softly. The scent of cherry blossoms wafted up her nostrils and she sighed. This scent brought back so many memories. Finally, the last thing to go into her bag was a small hairbrush.

Once everything was in order Rukia glanced at the clock. It was nearly seven in the morning. She wasn't sure when visiting hours were but she intended to go in anyway. She grabbed a book and a few files before she left and calmly exited her apartment.

Her ride to the hospital was quiet. She sat on the metro and drew into herself for peace. Today was Saturday and the metro would be busy soon enough. She was just glad that she got out of everyone's way first thing.

She walked into Karakura General, asked for the room, and was escorted to where her brother was. Late last night he had been transferred from the emergency surgery center to a more private area of the hospital. The room was excessively clean and held large amounts of medical equipment—most of it attached to her brother—as well as minutia that made the room a bit homier. There was also a slew of nurses flittering around outside. They looked at her each time they passed by the room. Rukia, oddly enough, felt slightly comforted that, should anything happen, there would always be someone around to help.

So Rukia walked inside, took a seat next to her brother, and finally looked.

The sight alone made a lump appear in her throat.

She had never seen her brother look so… _weak_ before. His normally pale skin was even paler, almost green, in the soft light of the room. At least seven apparatus's were attached to his body. IV's, breathing monitors, heart rate monitors, and so many other things she didn't recognize, all of them were shoved into her brother's arms and taped to his fingers. She swallowed hard and fought the urge to look away.

All throughout her entire life, Byakuya had been the one person that was always constant. It didn't matter that he was hard to please, or that he had incredibly high standards to meet, or that he could barely stand to be in her presence for too long. While those things might have hurt she hadn't minded them so long as he was just… _there._

He was always the one she thought of when things became too hard, when her Kuchiki pride was not enough to salvage her from a tough situation. He was always there to provide for her—through high school, college, and law school. He held her above water until she was able to learn to swim for herself. He might not have liked her, approved of her, or even seen her as an accomplished person, but she knew that he would always be there. It was almost obligatory. She was the sister of the woman he loved most in the world; he had sworn a duty to his wife to make sure that he would protect Rukia whenever and however he could.

Whether he liked it or not he was Rukia's own version of a superhero. She also knew that even though he was a cold and generally emotionless person, he had his moments. Once a year he made a joke, a few times he would smile, and he always made sure that he was fair to everyone he dealt with.

After a moment of quietly staring at him Rukia took a seat beside him—all the while fighting that irritating burning behind her eyes—and began to occupy herself.

Time ticked by very slowly. The only measurement of it was the slow, steady, breathing of her brother. Each time he took a breath, one machine would jump. Every time his heart pulsed another machine would make a note. In the beginning it was irritating to listen to—to think that all of Byakuya's life was being measured by this machine. All of his work, his advances, his passion, his love, his hatred, his ethics… all of it was just fodder for a single machine—but as the minutes passed Rukia began to find it comforting. Byakuya might not have much dignity at the moment. But at least he was alive.

Momo called once, asking her how everything was and Rukia told her that there had been no change at all. Momo had tried to make conversation about anything—her brother, the wedding, Toshiro, bridesmaids dresses, cake… anything, but in the end it had not helped. Rukia just wasn't in the mood to talk. So Momo had hung up, but not before telling Rukia that even if she didn't come to their Sunday run tomorrow, she'd still go and run twice around the park. Rukia had to smile at that. Momo would probably just walk. But still, she had been glad for that; she still wanted to help Momo but right now her brother came first.

After a while she opened some files and began to work on them. As the time kept passing by nurses would come in and ask if she needed anything. Rukia politely turned them away but they kept coming in to check on her every half hour or so. It seemed as if they wanted to make sure _she_ was still alive as well.

The only time Rukia left him was to go to the bathroom and to get a small and distasteful lunch. She came back after only twenty minutes. She found that when she was away from him—without the beeping to reassure her of his existence—she was uncomfortable.

So she stayed. She stayed with him, thinking about his job, her job, his life, her life, if she had gotten an email from that retarded dating service, her deceased sister, and her friends. She didn't even touch the book she had brought and the files lay listlessly on her lap. She simply sat still and thought about… everything.

Rukia remembered what Dr. Unohana had said to her yesterday, right after she had come out of surgery.

"…_He's in an extremely precarious condition. He could make it or he could go at any minute. We've done all we can. It's more his battle now than ours…"_

Rukia had to bite her lip just a bit harder at that thought. She knew that if it was up to Byakuya, even subconsciously, he would choose the path he wanted more than anything.

What he wanted more than anything was to see Hisana again. Rukia pressed her fingers to the bridge of her nose and drew in a deep breath. The doctor said that it was now up to him. Rukia knew that if given the choice between continuing his life on earth or dying and possibly getting the chance to see her again, he would choose the latter.

Byakuya was not a religious man; he did not go to church on Sundays or even on holidays. He did not believe in fate, destiny, karma, or eternal damnation. He did not bow his proud head to any establishment or beg forgiveness for sins he had not committed. What he did believe in was much more powerful than all of that.

He believed in love. Absolute, complete, and total love. That much was truly certain. He believed in it so much that each day he would wake up and look at the picture of Hisana still sitting by his bed and he would smile. He believed that you loved once and that a love as strong as his had been could overpower anything.

Even death.

Not that he'd ever admit it to anyone, but Rukia knew that he thought this way. He believed, fervently, that since he loved Hisana so much in life, his love would continue even past death. He knew that he would see her again. He _had_ to see her again.

This alone made Rukia worry.

She wondered if she was being selfish, to want her brother to continue his life on this planet, instead of dying and seeing the woman he loved. She thought perhaps that she was being a terrible sister for fighting for him to live. She knew what he wanted yet she still hoped that he would come out of this and live.

Perhaps she _was_ being selfish. Even so, she had no evidence, no proof, that what Byakuya believed about love and death was even true. She had never experienced love that raw and passionate. She didn't know whether it was a promise, or only a possibility, that he would see Hisana in death. Perhaps she was just saving him from his end. No one knew for certain what would come _after_, they just knew what _could_ happen _after_.

Rukia swallowed heavily and bowed her head softly. Then there was the other reason… she didn't want him to die.

Even though he could barely tolerate her, even though he thought of her as a disappointment, and even though he hated to even look at her… she still loved him. He was her older brother, her hero; he was the man who had loved her sister more than any man had ever loved a woman, even though she came from nothing. He was the man who helped raise her, who gave her every available opportunity, who cared for her—even if from a distance.

He was still her brother, though if only by her sister's marriage. Even if she didn't like him most of the time she still loved him and respected him. She couldn't let him die. She just couldn't. So with that thought in mind Rukia sat in her chair and waited.

It was nearly nine o'clock at night before anything happened.

Rukia had been dozing off momentarily when she heard the irregular beeping of one of Byakuya's machines. She had pounced almost immediately, her finger already on the button, ready to call the nurse, when she noticed something that was not wrong at all.

Byakuya's heart monitor was going a little bit faster. There was barely any discrepancies in this beeping pattern now as there were when he had been unconscious but since Rukia had been listening to them all day… well, she knew the difference.

She jolted up in her seat and noticed that his eyelids were fluttering softly. Her heart raced and she swallowed once before going into action. The items she had placed in her bag this morning had all been arranged neatly on the counter beside her. Each one ready should their time of need arrive.

As quickly as she could Rukia stripped off her tee shirt and slid the blue silk chemise over her body. Her fingers smoothly slid the buttons into place while her eyes fixed next on the necklace and earrings. She clipped the necklace on and its heavy weight made her bite her bottom lip hard. It was like the weight had been added to her heart as well. The earrings were next, she felt them bob against her jaw for a moment before she opened the bottle of perfume and dabbed some on of the liquid on her neck and her pulse. She heard the beeping getting faster and she hurriedly placed herself in front of the mirror. The brush slid around the fine, raven, strands with ease as she fixed her hair the way she wanted.

Finally, she examined herself in the mirror. Her exhaustion made her look paler and made the circles under her eyes more pronounced. She looked into her eyes and swallowed heavily. She looked like… like…

A moan came from behind her and Rukia swiveled softly. She saw her brother, blinking blearily into the darkness of the room—she had dimmed the lights for him. Rukia could tell by his groggy expression that drugs were still overtly present in his system. She just hoped this worked.

She cleared her throat softly and walked shakily over to the hospital bed where her brother was sighing softly.

She stood over his bed and leaned down only a bit. Just enough for his groggy nose to smell her perfume but not enough for her hair to fall out of place. He jerked once on the bed and his heart monitor quickened a little more.

"Byakuya…" she whispered, her voice no higher than a breeze.

It took him a few moments to respond. When he did his eyes fluttered, a drug-induced, dreary, film covering them softly, distorting his vision. Yet he still drew in a small breath through his nose and managed to croak one name.

"H—His-ana…"

Rukia smiled slightly and fought the tears that were prickling against her eyes once again.

"Yes, Byakuya, it's me." She kept her voice higher pitched but still low enough for it to be a small sigh. One of her small hands reached out and she placed it on his face. His skin was hot while hers was cooled. She cradled his cheek and brushed her thumb against his scraggly shadow.

His hand rose groggily and he blinked his eyes, as if to clear them so he could put any truth to what he was seeing, what he was smelling, and what he was feeling. Rukia started when she felt his fingers brush against the silk of her shirt. He was trying to hold her face but had only grazed her shoulder instead. "I—I miss y-you…"

Rukia told herself not to cry. She needed to do this. She needed to get through this. "I know…" Her other hand reached out and grasped his. His fingers clutched hers with a strength she hadn't known he possessed. One tear slipped from her eye but she forced all the others to stay in. Slowly, ever so slowly, she raised the hand that was gripping hers and pressed it against her own cheek. He sighed when she held it there, his own body not having enough strength to keep it in position.

She slowly pressed a kiss to his hand and a small smile crept onto his face. "You need to rest, Byakuya," Rukia whispered kindly, brushing her thumb against his face again. "You need to rest to become strong."

His brows furrowed a tiny bit and he made a small sound of disagreement. "I want… I want to stay… with you…"

Rukia didn't know what broke her heart more, the way his body fought just to make that one, small, sentence, or the love and desperation that appeared in his voice.

"You must stay here," she said kindly, stroking his face and pressing her lips to his hand. "You are needed here."

"I… need… you." He tried to put more emphasis on the last word but all that came out was a wheeze.

Another tear slipped through Rukia's defenses.

"It's not your time, Byakuya." She murmured against the back of his hand, "Not yet. You are still needed here."

He tried to shake his head but soon became too exhausted to do even that.

"Hisana…"

"Sleep now," Rukia said, her voice thick with pain, wretchedness, and unshed tears, "I promise, when your time comes, we will be together again."

His eyes were now closed but Rukia could tell he was valiantly struggling against the drugs for consciousness. "Promise?" He whispered, his voice was so low that even Rukia barely heard it.

"I promise." She said again. In one swift motion, Rukia leaned forward and pressed a soft, chaste, kiss to her brother's lips. When she pulled back she saw that he had curved them into a quiet, endearing, loving smile. Rukia nearly choked on her own tears when she saw that smile. So true… so pure…

Byakuya's body went slack and she released his hand from hers. She gently put it back down on the bed and then released his rough cheek from her hold. She took one more minute to smooth his hair back into place before clenching her teeth together and calling in a nurse.

A plump, older, woman entered and asked what was going on.

"He woke up," Rukia told her in a soft, choking, voice, "Just for a minute, but he woke up."

The nurse breathed a great sigh of relief before smiling hugely at Rukia. The nurse began to prattle on about how fantastic this was, how she'd come and have a doctor check on his in a moment, and how much of a reprieve it must be for Rukia. She only nodded dumbly along. When the nurse left to go fetch a doctor Rukia quickly shut the door and began to disrobe. The necklace and the matching earrings went into the small box. The shirt went into the plastic bag. The hairbrush combed her locks back into their normal ponytail. She pulled her own tee shirt over her head and found that her fingers were shaking desperately. She told herself to hold onto her feelings, her tears, and her cries until she was home… safe, and in the confines of her own apartment. She just didn't know if she could wait that long.

As she was washing the perfume off of her wrists and her neck the plump nurse came back into the room, doctor in tow. The doctor greeted her sleepily and told her the same pleasant normality's he must give to every family. He told her that Byakuya was going to be fine, that she shouldn't worry, and that he was in the best of hands.

Rukia simply nodded mutely and began to pack up her things. She barely heard what the doctor was saying about charts, readings, and fluids. Rukia just kept her head down and tried not to cry. The doctors barely noticed that anything was amiss and exited with warm words of hope. Rukia nodded silently and they soon let themselves out; at least they were perceptive enough to realize the tense atmosphere.

Once all of her things were gathered Rukia turned to look back at her brother. He was still, once again, and his beeping machines were back to the way they had been when she first arrived. The only thing that was different was the minute smile that now curled on his lips.

He looked happy.

Rukia felt like retching. Her body was shaking with barely contained self-disgust. She wanted to cry, she wanted to scream, she wanted to find someone who would hit her as hard as they could, and she wanted someone to tell her that what she had done wasn't the most baseless thing imaginable, that she hadn't just taken away the happy future of her very own brother, and that she had done _something _that could be considered good.

Her lips trembled as she bent over her brother and kissed his forehead. She lifted her head swiftly and walked out of the hospital room as fast as she could. Her footsteps echoed silently in the hallway as she strode. A few nurses looked at her but she avoided their gazes. A few told her 'goodnight' but she only cross her arms over her chest and kept walking. She wanted to disappear. She wanted to become invisible. She wanted to fade so far into the walls that she'd never get out of it.

She was almost to the elevators when she stopped dead in her tracks.

"What are you doing here?" She demanded, her voice was thick with pain, emotion, and self-loathing. It even cracked for a moment as she spoke.

Ichigo Kurosaki had been leaning against the wall but when she spoke to him he moved off of it. She swallowed hard and looked away from his bright amber eyes as they stared at her up and down. She knew that he could feel it… feel the shame and the guilt that was oozing off of her body as she just stood there. He would probably take that and use it… twist it, however best he could.

"I came to see you." He said, his voice was low and deep but it carried all the way over to her. She shivered softly at the sound but didn't raise her head either. "And your brother," he added onto the end.

"So you've been standing here for how long?" She demanded scathingly, staring at the pattern of tiles on the floor.

"A bit," was his ambiguous reply. Rukia scowled and moved her gaze to the tops of her tennis shoes.

"Thanks for coming," she muttered acidly, she looked up just far enough so she could see the defining angle of his nose. "Is there anything else?"

She could see how tense his muscles were under his thin, cotton, tee shirt. He must have been trying to reign in his temper around her. She wondered why he wasn't just taunting her like normal. His taunts would have been much easier to take than his compassion. If he had been goading her or fighting with her she could have released everything back to him, all of her hurt, anger, grief, humiliation, and shame… all of it. She knew that he would be able to take it; he had taken worse from her before, why should this time be any different?

It was because he saw the puffiness around her eyes, the tears threatening to fall, the slump of her once-proud shoulders, and the pathetic set of her jaw. He could see it all and he wasn't judging her.

He was trying to help her.

"Sorry," she exhaled sadly, bitterly, even. She shouldn't be lashing out at him, no matter how much she disliked him right now. She wouldn't let her emotions run her thoughts and ruin the precarious relationship they had.

"S'okay." He muttered just as quietly. She saw how his muscles relaxed underneath his shirt and breathed a small sigh of relief. He understood. Rukia rubbed her toe into the linoleum floors and tried to control her increasingly spasmodic breathing. She couldn't cry in front of him. She just couldn't.

"Let me take you home." He said in a voice that left no room for argument. Rukia only nodded her head hollowly. She didn't want to take the metro… not this late at night and definitely not feeling the way she felt.

"Okay," she whispered and walked a few steps forward. Ichigo's hand was out but she ignored it. After a moment he let it drop although she knew that, if she needed it, he would offer it again. He came to the elevators and pressed the button to go down. They waited in silence for the metallic contraption to arrive.

They entered slowly and stood apart inside of it. Rukia made sure that no part of her was touching any part of him. She needed distance if she was to get on with tonight. Any sign of human comfort and she would just… she would… she would break down completely.

The doors to the elevator opened slowly and they walked out through the main lobby, both of them were completely silent. He led her out to his car and beeped it open. He opened the door for her and she slid in comfortably. She thought that a few days ago this would have been taboo. Considering what was going on between the two of them… but then again, a few days ago her brother hadn't been shot and she hadn't been on the edge of a mental breakdown.

She heard him slide into the driver's side and shut the door behind him. She looked out of her window as he started the engine. Soft jazz music floated in between them and she started at that. She hadn't thought of him being a jazz enthusiast… more like a heavy metal, rocker type. But this… this was soothing.

"Nice car." She commented.

"Thanks," was all he said in return.

He didn't ask her address. Instead he began driving away from the hospital on his own. She didn't bother speaking to him. She just let the cool sounds of the saxophone, trumpet, and piano lull her into a type of calmness that she had not yet experienced today. For the first time in nearly fifty hours she let her muscles begin to relax. She closed her eyes, shut off her mind, and leaned back in the soft leather of the chair. She didn't even pay attention to where Ichigo was driving her. She'd just let him take her where ever he wanted. Although, she reminded herself tiredly, this would probably never happen again.

Finally, the car stopped and Rukia opened her eyes. They were on a particularly darkened road with only street lights to give them any sort of comfort. She frowned and turned to the driver, wondering if he had finally gotten the courage to off her and then toss her body to the side of the road.

"Where are we?"

He didn't answer her, instead, he offered a small smile and pointed to the building directly across from her. She twisted her head and looked towards the window. There was indeed something right there. A shop or something. Rukia frowned and looked a little closer, it wasn't lit up, it wasn't big, and it wasn't really very modern either. There was nothing really extravagant about it at all. Rukia raised one eyebrow and didn't think twice about not noticing it. It was sandwiched between two more ostentatious shops, and had barely anything going for it besides a small, ratty, sign.

"Urahara's," Rukia read softly before turning to Ichigo. "What is this place?"

He smirked gently at her. "Remember your sandwiches?"

Rukia understood now. "Oh," she murmured. "This is where you got them?" She turned back to the small restaurant and examined it speculatively.

He unbuckled his seat belt and motioned for her to do the same. Rukia immediately stopped him, "I'm not hungry." She said softly.

His hands stilled for a minute and he raised one eyebrow in a chastising stare. "Rukia, I'm guessing that you haven't had anything to eat since lunch. It's half past nine."

_Point one for Ichigo,_ Rukia thought ruefully.

"Come on, you need to eat something." He goaded her, he opened his door and got out of the car even though Rukia remained motionless in her seat. Her eyes followed him as he sighed, moved over to her side, and bent to open her door. The moment he did a heavenly scent sailed under her nose. Her toes curled in her shoes and her mouth watered at what she could imagine was in that small building. Maybe she really _could_ eat something…

Ichigo squatted down until his head was a tad below hers. She swallowed nervously and finally chose to look him in the eye instead of cowardly looking at his nose. What she saw shocked her; his honeyed amber eyes were intense, yes, but not with exasperation or irritation… instead they were filled with worry, sympathy, and concern.

"Rukia," he said softly and she sucked in a breath. She hadn't even realized she'd been holding it until now. His eyes were just so raw with emotion… it took her breath away. He drew in a steadying breath as well and probed her once again with those unrefined, forceful, eyes of his. He hesitated for one more minute before whispering to her, "I saw… what you did."

The burning behind her eyes was back but she didn't question it. She didn't argue with it and she didn't try and force it away. She just let it come. Rukia bit her lip and nodded slowly. Her fingers twined with Ichigo's as he helped her out of the car as slowly as she wanted to go. He didn't let go of her hand as he shut her door, locked his car, and walked with her to the entrance of the restaurant. His hand felt warm and beautiful around hers. She could feel the strength and power in his calloused digits. They led her slowly, taking their time, running their fingers slowly over hers. Rukia gripped his hand hard in hers and let him take her inside.

A tiny bell tinkled as they entered. Rukia looked up and began to assess the place. It was homey, comfortable, a bit cluttered, and smelled like delicious food. There weren't copious amounts of tables littering the place, or a large kitchen, but that only seemed to add to its charm.

Ichigo did not release her hand as he took a few steps inside. "Urahara!" He called, his voice was powerful and steady. Rukia did not think that she could emulate that type of tone anytime soon. "Come out! We've got an order for you."

There was a small commotion coming from the background and suddenly, a fair-haired man in a large, green overcoat, sandals, and a green and white striped hat appeared from a small back room. "We?" He said, coming forward from the shadows and flipping on a couple of lights in the process. He stopped short when he saw Rukia. His smile grew even wider when he noticed their linked hands. Rukia didn't even blush when a suggestive grin appeared on his face. "_We?_ My, my, Kurosaki, you've never brought one of your lady friends to visit me before." He took a few steps forward and quickly grasped Rukia's other hand. He brought it to his mouth and brushed a quick kiss across her knuckles. Rukia didn't move, after being in the business world for a while you got used to things like that.

Ichigo, however, didn't seem particularly fond of how open this man was being with Rukia. He tugged her back a little bit and pushed his free hand onto Urahara's hat-enclosed head. "Paws off, Kisuke, this is Rukia Kuchiki, my business associate."

Urahara, finally regaining his balance, blinked several times before his joking demeanor became very serious. He took one look at Rukia—a really look, this time, not a simple once-over like he had done before—and noted her splotched eyes, her trembling lip, and her grim expression. He slowly nodded his head to her. "My apologies."

"It's alright," Rukia croaked, surprised by the level of sincerity in his voice. It was almost like he knew exactly what she was going through.

"Kisuke!" A new voice called, this one from the back as well, "Who is it?"

"Ichigo, my dear," he yelled back, "And he brought a friend, a certain Rukia _Kuchiki_."

Another rustle was heard and this time, a woman popped her head out. She was a beauty, exotic in every way. Her hair was long and so black it almost looked purple. Her breasts were full and pushed up by a small corset, accenting her tiny waist and her long, luscious legs. Her skin was dark tan and her eyes were a striking shade of gold. Rukia felt awed by her as she flitted carelessly into the room. Her body moved like liquid between the tables and the clutter. She was so graceful and fast it looked like she barely moved her feet at all.

She walked over to the man, Kisuke Urahara, and placed her hand on his shoulder. "Kuchiki?" She asked, looking between Ichigo, Urahara, and Rukia. "As in _the_ Kuchiki? The one in the papers this morning?"

"One in the same, apparently," Urahara murmured, his gaze was still set on Rukia and she shifted slightly underneath of it. "This is his sister, Rukia."

"Oh," the woman said in an amazed voice. She nodded once to Rukia and pulled one side of her mouth up into a small smile.

Ichigo cleared his throat and narrowed his eyes at the two of them. Both of them were too focused on Rukia to notice anything amiss with him.

"Rukia," he said, tugging on her hand slightly and breaking her away from her staring contest with the shop's owners. "This is Kisuke Urahara, owner of this _fine_ establishment, and this is his wife, Yoruichi Shihion."

"Hello," Rukia said. Normally she would have offered them her hand to shake but tonight… tonight she just didn't feel like it. She was just too drained.

"We'll have two of your house specials," Ichigo said in a commanding tone, jerking them both out of their reverie. "Okay?"

Both of them shrugged at the same time and began muttering wordlessly to each other on the way back. Rukia watched them retreat slowly. She'd never seen a couple that looked so mismatched but seemed to fit together so well, even if she had only known them for a few minutes.

Ichigo tugged on her hand softly and began walking towards a more private table. She followed him willingly, not once feeling uncomfortable that his hand was still wrapped around hers. They sat down slowly in the darkened corner of the room and listened to the bustling and murmuring inside of the kitchen. Neither one of them could make out what they were saying exactly, but that didn't stop them from trying.

"I've been coming here since I was a kid," Ichigo said, his voice still as commanding as it had been before, "Back when my sisters were little. My dad and Kisuke are friends. It was actually Kisuke that got me into mixed martial arts."

_So that how he stays in such good shape._ Rukia thought absentmindedly.

"They always have the greatest food," he muttered, "They don't even really have menus, you just come in and they kind of just… _know _what you want. It's really weird."

A young woman appeared out of nowhere and brought them both cups of water. Rukia looked at her balefully while Ichigo smirked, "Hey Ururu, how are you?"

"Just fine," the girl said in a very tiny voice. She looked to be around the same age as Ichigo's sisters yet from the way she dressed—in a pink and white polka dotted skirt with pigtails in her shiny hair—and from the way she carried herself she seemed to be only fifteen. She looked up at them with big, liquid eyes and blinked, "Would you like something else to drink?"

"Tea would be nice," Ichigo said, he turned to Rukia, who just nodded in acquiescence. The young woman disappeared as quickly as she had come.

Ichigo nodded after her, "That's Ururu; Kisuke took her and her brother, Jinta, in a few years ago. They're like his kids. My sister, Yuzu, has a crush on Jinta."

Rukia said nothing, only sipped at her water and waited for the food to arrive. Ichigo remained quiet for a few more moments. He simply picked at a small scratch in the wood and watched her levelly. They didn't have long to wait. Ururu brought them their meals and backed away politely. Ichigo began to eat his quickly while Rukia more or less picked at hers. She just didn't feel like eating anything. It didn't really help that she could hear Kisuke and Yoruichi talking about her only a few feet away. Ichigo scowled at them but they didn't even notice him. They just kept talking.

"Hey!" He finally barked and the two of them stopped for a moment.

"What?" Kisuke asked sweetly, holding his hands out innocently.

"If you're going to talk about her then go into another room. She has enough to deal with without the two of you making it worse." Ichigo snarled softly. Both of them began muttering about how rude Ichigo was but they moved nonetheless. She heard their footsteps receding into the far back. Ichigo only smirked and returned to his food.

Rukia had never liked Ichigo Kurosaki more than at this exact moment.

"Thank you," she murmured softly.

He drew his head up to hers and a small smile escaped his lips. He nodded once and then indicated towards her food. "Eat something. I don't want you to become a waif."

She nodded silently and began to eat more of her perfectly made sandwich. They ate together in silence, yet it wasn't uncomfortable. It just seemed as though neither wanted to ruin the calm mood for the sake of conversation. The only thing that interrupted their dining experience was the sounds of a radiator clicking on and the occasional whirl of a washing machine.

Rukia had finished half of her sandwich when she pushed it away from her. She just couldn't stomach it.

Ichigo first noticed her half-eaten sandwich and then studied her face. Rukia's eyes were cast down, her head was bowed slightly, and her breathing was thick and shallow. Both of her hands were on the table in front of her, the fingers were clenched into fists. Ichigo slowly wiped his hands on his pants and set them on top of the table as well. They were only a few inches from hers yet she didn't think to even move them.

"Rukia," he muttered, his voice was tight but oddly enough, it was also sympathetic. Her eyes flitted up to his and she swallowed hard when she saw the shimmering empathy displayed inside of them. It looked like he was trying to see into her very soul. He drew in a slow breath and placed both of his warm hands on top of hers. She flinched lightly but didn't move them away. His gaze was intense as he said, "If I had been you, in that hospital bed, seeing one of my siblings in the exact same situation…" he paused and squeezed her hands lightly, "I would have done the exact same thing."

She said nothing. The only thing that indicated she was listening was the pricking and burning appearing once again behind her eyes. She knew that he could see the tears that were threatening to fall onto her cheeks. She was so glad that he wasn't saying anything though. She didn't think she could handle it.

"You love your brother," he said softly, "I know you do. You had to make sure that he stuck around until it was really his time." He squeezed her hands even tighter and drew them a bit closer to him. "I know that he must have loved Hisana but… but it just wasn't his time. You know him," a small smile creaked onto his face, "When would Byakuya Kuchiki ever let someone send him to the grave before he was ready to go?"

The top corner of Rukia's mouth inched up only a bit. She tried to hide it but she knew that Ichigo saw it. His thumbs rubbed across the backs of her hands and she sighed inwardly at the contact. It was a bit comforting. His smile widened at the sight of her tiny attempt and he quickly brought one of her hands up to his mouth. He slowly splayed her fingers and turned it over. He pressed a steady kiss to the inside of her palm and then to the pulse of her wrist.

Rukia felt like crying all over again. He was being so nice to her. So nice… after everything she had put him through. She didn't deserve to be treated this kindly.

"Come on," he said quietly, "I'll take you home now. Okay?"

Rukia nodded softly and allowed him to pull her gently out of the chair. Ichigo placed a few bills on the table and didn't even allow Rukia to protest that he was paying for her. They went outside as slowly as she wanted and then went back to his car. He opened the door for her and she slid inside. His hand slipped from hers and Rukia had to cringe at that. She liked having his large hand around hers. She didn't want to lose it. The _connection_ was what she wanted. She just wanted to be next to someone so she wouldn't completely break down.

Ichigo slid into his seat and started the car. His hand rested limply on the gearshift and it was then that Rukia took her chance. She extended her left hand and pressed it against his. If he was surprised he didn't give any indication. He simply turned his palm over and accepted her. Their fingers twined together and he squeezed them lightly.

Rukia smiled softly and drew in a slow breath. She told him her address and he began to drive away. They didn't say anything as he drove. They just sat, their hands connected, listening to smooth jazz. Rukia could not have felt more at peace.

They reached her apartment sooner than she had anticipated and Rukia told him to just drive to the front. She saw her normal doorman waiting outside, his eyes followed Ichigo's car as it pulled up to the curb and parked.

Ichigo got out first, his lean, lanky, body casting a silhouette in the glow of the streetlights. He moved to the Rukia's side and opened the door. Neither of them said a word as he lightly pulled her out. They stood for a few moments, his hands locked on hers, his body towering over hers, and his warmth seeping into her. Rukia looked up at him and offered him a tiny, half-smile. It was pathetic really, but it was all she could muster right now.

He smiled back at her and tugged her forward. Rukia came willingly and folded herself into the wonderful warmth of his arms. His body blocked out the chill of the early autumn air and surrounded her with palatable masculinity. She buried her face softly into his chest and inhaled his heavenly scent. She felt his chin rest on top of her head while his hands rubbed at her back.

"Thank you." She whispered. The sound was barely audible but she knew that he heard it anyway.

"Don't worry about it." He said before gently kissing the top of her head. "You did the right thing."

She still wasn't completely convinced of that but Ichigo must have been or else he wouldn't have said so. She exhaled quietly and gingerly removed herself from his arms. He seemed reluctant to let her go but did anyway. He smiled gently at her and stepped away. It was as if he knew that she needed a bit of space.

"Will I see you in the park tomorrow?" He asked her quietly.

She shook her head slowly, "You'll see Momo but probably not me."

"Hospital?"

She nodded thickly.

"Okay," he brushed his hand against her cheek and Rukia was stunned to see that a small tear had escaped from her eye. It had trickled down her cheek and she hadn't even noticed. Ichigo had though. His finger moved slowly up her face until his thumb brushed tenderly against the bottom of her eye. She murmured a small thanks and began to search in her purse for her key.

"See you Monday?" He asked when she found it.

She nodded, "I'll be there."

"Okay." He stuffed his hands into his pockets and grinned at her, "Just make sure you bring the old Rukia out to play. I think I'm in the mood to be pummeled in the face with a stapler. Or be called a lazy ass. Or be kicked in the shins."

A wet laugh escaped Rukia's throat and she nodded a few times. "Okay. I'll do that." She turned away from him and silently greeted her doorman. He opened the door for her and she stepped into the air conditioned lobby of her rather expensive apartment building. She was almost to the elevator when she looked behind her and saw that he was still there, leaning against his Mercedes Benz, watching her with those intense eyes of his.

A small shudder shivered up Rukia's spine and she pushed the elevator. Her eyes were locked onto his until the doors opened and she stepped in. She quaked lightly until she had to lean up against the walls. She closed her eyes as the machine moved her up to her floor. She felt hollow as she went to her apartment, opened the door, and stepped inside.

Her heart was still aching terribly. Although the pain had been somewhat alleviated by Ichigo. She went into her room and flopped, boneless, onto the bed. She didn't even bother removing her clothes or setting her alarm before her eyes slid shut and sleep claimed her.

She dreamed of Ichigo.

**(A/N: Okay, so what do you guys think of this chapter? I hope it wasn't too filled with fluff. But then again, IchiRuki fluff is always something that is appreciated in my book. :D Even though it was kind of depressing fluff… anyway… this chapter was kind of experimental. I didn't really know how it would turn out but… well, I like it.**

**A big thanks to anyone and everyone who has reviewed so far! It means the world to me!**

**PLEASE DON'T FORGET TO REVIEW! (Maybe I'll update sooner… cough, cough…)**


	20. Chapter 19

**Disclaimer: I do not own Bleach or any Bleach affiliates.**

_**Odalisque**_

**Chapter 19**

Rukia woke up around seven the next morning. It was unusual for her to sleep so late but she went with it anyway. She still felt like a pile of shit for doing what she did to her brother, despite the countless efforts of one Ichigo Kurosaki to try and convince her she did the right thing. Yet instead of wallowing in self-pity, which is what she had done last night, she became proactive instead.

The best way she knew to deal with situations like this was to simply preoccupy her brain with other thoughts. She needed to do something _other_ than just sit around and examine how much of a crummy sister—and person—she was.

So she rose, showered, got her morning coffee, ate breakfast, and began to tidy up her already impeccable apartment. She didn't need to; she just wanted to do something that would distract her. Once that was finished—it took all of fifteen minutes—she sat down in front of her computer, her body still encased in her fuzzy bathrobe and her feet in her Chappy the Bunny slippers, and checked her email.

Most of them were just business related, spam, and funny pictures Momo had sent her. _So this is what she does with all of her time in the office,_ Rukia thought as she examined one particular photo of a mouse holding up an entire elephant. One email, however, grabbed her attention.

"The dating service," she breathed softly. She clicked on it quickly and listlessly skimmed over the fluffy embellishments. She was told of the extensive process, why it might have taken so long in her case, and how happy they were that they could have helped her find her "soul mate." By the looks of things they sent her the profile of only one man. She read on further and raised her eyebrow when the email went on to say that if she wasn't satisfied with this match that she could request another, as there were nearly fifteen for her.

_Fifteen? _Rukia thought ruefully, _Momo will be ecstatic._

She opened the email further and began to look at the first person they had chosen for her.

Apparently, his name was Aramaki Makizou, he worked as an assistant in a very prestigious defense attorney's office on the outskirts of Karakura, he was thirty years old, and he enjoyed French restaurants and traveling to exotic places. Rukia had to wince softly when she saw his picture. Obviously this man had watched one to many Burt Reynolds movies as his mustache was quiet weird looking. Still… he did look sincere and, ah, _nice_, enough… right?

Rukia sighed heavily and clicked out of the window. It was only the beginning of September, she glanced over at her calendar and rolled her eyes softly, she'd give herself a month. She had been given his email and knew that she should probably contact him at some point. Although she'd rather actually go on an actual date with the man first. As she heard once before, computer dating was fine… if you were the computer. She would rather have him looking directly at her and talking straight to her as they 'dated.' That way she could evaluate him right off the bat. She could analyze his voice, his attitude, if he was sweating or not, if he was actually sincere, if his laugh was simply too irritating to bear, if he had any overtly gross habits, and whether or not he had actual table manners—because if he were to actually to marry into the Kuchiki Family that had to taken into account.

She wouldn't think about that though. She absolutely wouldn't. She quickly shut off her computer and moved into her room. She dressed much the same as she did yesterday, jeans, tee shirt, and sneakers. All the while she wondered if her brother would be conscious for any length of time today. Knowing Byakuya he probably would. She bet that if he were awake for any length of time that he might actually begin to demand that the hospital take his off some of the pain medications. If there was one thing Byakuya truly hated it was not being in command of his own mind.

Rukia packed a thermos filled with coffee into her bag and set off. The metro was more crowded, seeing as how it was nearly eight thirty, but she managed to get to the hospital in a respectable mood.

When she entered the ward where Byakuya was staying several nurses came up to her and greeted her. She nodded back at them and made her way to her brother's room. Her eyes widened just a bit when she noticed Dr. Unohana standing outside the door. She was scanning a chart as calmly as though she was reading a book. Her head would nod now and again and then a flip of another page would follow.

"Doctor," Rukia called, gathering her attention.

She turned and smiled warmly at Rukia, who hurried up to her as quickly as she could. "Miss Kuchiki, how nice to see you again."

Rukia wanted to skip all of the formalities. She was so fucking tired of them. "How is he?" She demanded in a quiet voice.

Dr. Unohana's smile was sympathetic but hopeful. "He's doing much better," she said sincerely, "He's sleeping a lot but that's to be expected. He's also eating a bit. It's not solid food but we're getting there."

"Really?" Her eyes widened exponentially and her mouth even threatened to drop. "What in the—"

"I was surprised as well," the doctor said with a small shrug of her shoulders, "But he's improving so rapidly. I don't really know what happened but it's good."

"Will he recover fully?" She asked breathlessly. Her hopes were rising too far for her own good but… but if he could…

"I don't know if it will be completely," Dr. Unohana said, an edge of doubt coloring her words. She crossed her arms over her chest and continued, "He's going to need months of physical therapy and he might need to walk with a cane but other than that I'd hope for nothing less."

"Byakuya will never walk with a cane," Rukia snorted softly, "He's much too proud for that."

"Well we all have our weaknesses." The doctor shrugged.

Rukia peered slightly into the room. "Is he sleeping now?"

"He is," was her answer, "We sedated him heavily because we want to keep observing him and his conditions throughout the day. He probably won't wake up for a while."

Panic flashed through her body and Rukia's head whipped around to Dr. Unohana's. The older woman saw the strained look in her face and immediately placed her hands up, "He's just going to be sleeping, no need to worry about him slipping into a coma or anything."

"Oh thank God," Rukia exhaled energetically. She placed a hand on her chest and strove to calm the frantic beating of her heart.

"I must say," the doctor said after a moment, her head trailing to the side and glancing inside of the room, "I've never seen anyone quiet as… _tenacious_ before. Your brother is quite a trooper."

"He is." Rukia murmured, she crossed her arms over her chest and leaned against the wall. "He really is."

-!!-

"You're really quiet today, Ichigo," Yuzu murmured, passing him a slice of spongy-yet-crunchy cake. "Are you looking for anyone in particular?"

Karin gave him a sideways glance and smirked playfully. "Yeah… looking for someone, are we?"

Ichigo scowled at his sister and shook his head. "Kind off, but not any half-naked women." He bit into the sweet treat and grimaced, "She's not here today."

"Because her brother was shot?" Karin interjected.

"Pretty much."

Yuzu's eyes widened and she looked frantically between her siblings. "You mean the man in the paper yesterday, the one who was shot, he's related to the girl Ichigo has a crush on?"

"I do not have a—"

"That's the one," Karin cut in. She smirked at her brother and nodded haughtily while he pretended to strangle her.

"Oh my," Yuzu bit her lip and began to pick at a random string on the quilt. "I wonder if I should bake her something. I mean, I don't really know her or anything but… you can never have too many baked goods. Right?" Her face became pitifully hopeful as she began to mentally plan all of the foods she would give to this woman she had never met.

"I do not have a crush on her." Ichigo clarified sourly. He turned back to his people watching and blandly watched his father wrestle with a very angry, and very large, dog. Good god, it looked like they were wrestling for the same chew toy.

He scanned the crowd and watched for any sign of Rukia's friend, Momo Hinamori. If there was anything new going on with Rukia and her brother, Momo would definitely know about it. Well, at least he hoped she would.

He just wanted her to be alright. Christ, yesterday she had looked so… broken. She could barely even look at him. Her eyes, which were usually so full of every spastic emotion under the sun, weren't even alive. She had been so hollow. It freaked him out to see her like that.

Maybe that was why he had hugged her. He had hated to see her so blank. At least after he had hugged her she had been a bit more alive.

Ichigo sighed heavily and shook his head. Although there must be something wrong with him if he had wanted to lessen her pain. He shouldn't be caring about her at all, yet here he was, kissing her, hugging her, and taking her to his favorite restaurant.

_What the fuck is wrong with you?_ His inner mind bellowed. _She's a bitch!_

That might have been true, but the scary thing was that it didn't stop him from actually caring about her. He hadn't even slept with her yet. Ichigo sighed fitfully and ran a hand through his hair. This was so completely messed up. It went against everything he believed in. Everything he had always done. It was just… wrong.

"You okay Ichigo?" Yuzu asked him, she patted his knee warmly and smiled, passing him another piece of spongy yet crunchy cake.

"I'm fine," he muttered, "I just need to find Rukia's friend. That's all."

There was a slight pause before Karin raised one eyebrow at him and pointed out into the small field, "You mean that chick running towards us?"

Ichigo looked up and immediately winced. Yep, that was Momo Hinamori—soon to be Momo Hitsugaya—alright. Her hair was up in a bun, her face was pink, and her feet seemed to be bouncing her up and down as she power-walked over to where he was sitting. Briefly, Ichigo wondered if he should get up and shield his sisters from the craziness that was Momo. He knew immediately that she would get along just fine with Yuzu, but with Karin, well, he just wondered how many snide insults his sister could think up in the space of the five minutes he would be talking with her.

In the end he just stayed where he was, sitting stiffly on their tried-and-true picnic blanket. He watched Momo as she ran up to him, waved frantically—just in case he didn't see her the first time—and finally skidded to a halt in front of them.

"Ichigo!" She cried, slightly breathless from her jog over here. "Hi!"

"Hey Momo," Ichigo said calmly and tersely. He noticed his sister evaluating this strange intrusion with equal amounts of distaste and welcome.

"Hello!" Yuzu cried happily, Ichigo looked over at her and saw that she already had a plate of goodies ready for her. She offered them happily and said, "Breakfast cake?"

Momo looked taken aback by the happiness in Yuzu's voice but then immediately shifted her eyes to the plate offered to her. Ichigo saw her jaw tighten at the sight of the deliciously spongy treat.

"Ah, thank you," she muttered, her gaze still fixed on the plate of food, "But I just needed to talk to your brother for a minute."

"You're the half-naked chick's friend," Karin said snidely, "Right?" Her eyes shot between Momo and her brother and she wiggled her eyebrows suggestively.

The area between Momo's own eyebrows crunched together. "Half-naked chick? Wha—"

"Just ignore Karin," Ichigo growled, moving to stand up. "You can pay attention to the nicer one, Yuzu."

"Hello," Yuzu chirped.

"Hi," Momo turned her stare back to Ichigo and bit her bottom lip. "Have you heard from Rukia at all since yesterday?"

He shook his head slowly, "No, I haven't. The last I saw her I gave her a ride home from the hospital."

The words that were about to come out of Momo's mouth were immediately stopped. "You what?"

"I… took her home yesterday?" He muttered, phrasing it more as a question than an actual fact.

A startled growl ripped from Momo's throat and she threw her hands up against her eyes. Ichigo scooted back just a bit—never get in front of an angry woman, no matter what the circumstance… especially if that woman is planning her wedding, it will just make it worse. Momo must have growled for a full minute before she huffed and ripped her hands away from her face. She wrinkled her nose and growled angrily. "You two are _such_ idiots." She grumbled.

"Here, here," Karin said from the sidelines.

"Shut _up_ Karin," Ichigo snapped. He turned his attention back to Momo and shook his head. "No, I thought you'd call her or something."

The look of anger immediately vanished from Momo's features. Ichigo had to regard the instantaneous transaction with equal amounts of surprise and confusion. How could someone's mood change like that? Either way, a guilty look passed over her face and she shuffled her feet. "Well… I, uh, had to meet with the cake designer for my wedding. I didn't really have… ah, much time."

Ichigo rolled his eyes. Sure, if that was what _she_ said.

He sighed and rubbed the back of his head, "I just thought that you'd get in touch with her is all. But she said she was going to stay at the hospital for another day then she'd come to work on Monday."

"Oh… okay." Momo murmured quietly. She looked down at the ground for a minute before biting her lip and sighing, "How was she… yesterday, I mean?"

Ichigo's mind flashed back to how she looked after she had impersonated her dead sister in order to help her older brother get better. _Hollow._ She had looked deathly and painfully hollow. It was like she had been stuck inside of her own personal nightmare.

"I took her for a sandwich and she felt better after that."

Momo's eyebrow perked up and she fought to keep a small smile off of her face. What was with this woman and her moods? "You took her out to eat?"

Ichigo tried hard not to grit his teeth together, "Focus, Momo, focus."

"Alright… alright…" she held up her hands in defeat and smirked. "If you insist." Her face became more earnest. "But she was alright?"

"Momo, if your brother had been shot twice would you feel alright after only one day?" He demanded; he was actually surprised that he was taking such an active part in Rukia's defense, even going as far as to chastise the woman's best friend.

Momo's face was dark with shame and her mouth was pulled into a pout. Strangely enough though, Ichigo didn't feel at all guilty for saying what he did. Hell, he had been with Rukia more since the shooting than she had. So what if she couldn't really take it?

"I'll go see her later today." Momo said in a quiet voice. She nodded her head once, as if affirming what she was already thinking, and then looked up at Ichigo. She smiled hopefully and then lightly punched him in the shoulder. "Who knows, maybe Rukia can take me to that sandwich place you two went to."

His scowl became even more prominent, "Don't read too much into that Momo."

Her expression, which had been splattered with guilt and shame only a moment before, was now happy, warm, and suggestive. She shrugged her shoulders and laughed lightly, "You two should just get it over with and screw each other. The sexual tension between you guys is, like, off the charts."

"Whatever," Ichigo muttered, shooting a swift glance to Karin and telling her telepathically to keep quiet, she only smirked and started humming. Ichigo groaned inwardly; Karin only hummed when she was cooking up some sort of diabolical plan. He quickly looked back at Momo; her face was shining with happiness all because of her 'sexual tension' comment. However, Ichigo didn't really have the heart to tell her that he had already propositioned Rukia, and had been turned down flat. "Just go see your friend, okay?"

Momo's clever eyes didn't leave his face as she jumped up and down on her heels and giggled. "Alrighty then!" She turned to Karin and Yuzu and smiled, "Nice to meet you two!"

With that Rukia's best friend was gone, dashing down the hill with her shirt billowing out behind her. Ichigo could only assume that she was actually _running_ to get away from Yuzu's plate of delicious-yet-fattening food, after all, she had a wedding dress to fit into.

Sighing heavily, he sat down on the blanket and pointedly ignored the stares he was getting from both of his sisters. He simply grabbed another slice of spongy cake, turned away, and tried to ignore Karin's constant humming.

-!!-

Rukia stayed in the hospital until about six before she decided to venture home. The entire time her brother slept peacefully on the bed beside her chair and his machines beeped constantly. She read quietly, soothed by the steady and stable rising and falling of Byakuya's chest and the twitching of his limbs.

He looked much better though. He wasn't on his deathbed like he had been yesterday. His pallor had reduced just a tiny bit and, by the looks of things, there seemed to be a tube or two missing from his arms.

So after a long day of looking after her brother she took the metro home and quietly went inside her apartment. She decided that she should call Momo or something, just to tell her how Byakuya was doing. As she set her keys on the table she frowned softly and wondered why her friend hadn't come to visit her today. After all, it was kind of rude not to visit your best friend in the hospital when her brother has been shot.

_She's probably just busy with the wedding plans or something_. She thought half-heartedly.

Rukia sighed heavily and sagged onto the soft squishiness of her sofa. She was bone tired and she didn't know why. After all, her brother had slept peacefully, she had eaten regularly, and she even let herself indulge in a raunchy, bodice-ripping, sex novel. All in all it had been a very relaxing day.

Maybe it was just all this worrying. It was wearing her out. She shouldn't have been worrying all that much though. Byakuya was getting better so she really shouldn't be in fear of him dying anytime soon. Ichigo wasn't being as much of a bastard as usual, he was even being nice, and she had allowed herself to enjoy it. Momo was actually taking care of the wedding without as much of her input so she didn't have that cross to bear. Really, there was nothing truly wrong.

Then again, those thoughts could also be construed to: her brother was in the hospital, she wanted to bang her business partner so hard she wouldn't be able to walk for a week, and her best friend was getting married to a man who would probably monopolize all of her time for the next couple of years.

Sure, nothing to worry about, of course.

The phone beside her rang once and as a testament to her sluggish state she didn't even jump. She let it ring once more before she picked it up and answered, "Hello?"

"Rukia?" It was Momo.

"Yep." Great lord, she didn't even say, 'Yes, this is she' as was proper.

"I thought you were at the hospital!" Her voice came out a cross between a groan and a whine. It was a grine.

Momo growled angrily but stopped it halfway. "This is my fault," she muttered grudgingly, "I should have come earlier."

_Yes, you should have._ The comment was on the tip of Rukia's tongue but she reined it in.

"It's okay," she said instead, "Byakuya just slept most of the time."

"Oh, that's good." Momo let out a small sigh of relief and said, "Okay, well, I haven't seen you in nearly a day so I'll just come over now… is that okay?"

Rukia really wanted to tell her no. Today had worn her out and Momo's over-bubbly spirit was probably not what she needed at the moment. But Momo did sound a bit like she was beating herself up about not visiting her at the hospital earlier today. She sounded almost wounded. It was as if she had felt so guilty about it that she just wanted to make it up to Rukia right now.

She shook her head softly; Momo and her guilty conscious.

"Sure, I'm just at home."

"Do you want me to bring food?"

Okay, so maybe having Momo come over might not be such a bad idea after all. Her mouth watered instantly at the idea of pork lo mien from House of Wong's. Her stomach grumbled softly and she pursed her lips together.

"House of Wong?" She asked hopefully.

A fitful sigh came from across the phone and Rukia could almost hear Momo's stomach complain as well. "I guess I'll get the mixed vegetables… that's a low calorie count, right?"

"Absolutely," Rukia answered immediately, not because she actually knew the answer to that question, but more or less because she really, _really_, wanted pork lo mien.

"The regular?"

"As always."

"See you in twenty."

Rukia's doorbell rang exactly thirty minutes later. Hungry, tired, and thoroughly worn out, she yanked it open to reveal a rumpled yet apologetic Momo standing on her threshold. She was holding the deliciously smelling bags in front of her like a peace offering. She definitely knew that Rukia, no matter how angry she was, wouldn't hurt a person who offered her food from House of Wong. To do so would be sacrilege.

"Peace offering?" She muttered, holding up the bags in defense.

Rukia studied her friend for several moments before she nodded once, curtly, and opened the door a bit more. Momo stepped inside and within five seconds, plates were out, forks were set on the table, and napkins were placed delicately over laps and couch cushions. Rukia, since she did feel guilty about Momo feeling so guilty—damn this was so convoluted—let them both eat on the couch.

Momo broke into her sauce-covered-vegetables and made a face like she had just speed through the pearly gates of heaven. "So," she said with her mouth full of saucy broccoli. "Your brother is really getting better?"

"I think so," Rukia said, noodles hanging from her mouth. "And Dr. Unohana thinks so too."

"That's excellent."

"He twitched a few times in his sleep," she shrugged, slurping up more noodles and hunks of pork. "And he woke up enough for the nurses to give him something to drink."

"The nurses?"

Rukia knew the answer behind that loaded question. "You mean, why didn't I feed him myself?"

Momo nodded silently.

"Look," she bit down on another noodle and swallowed. "I love my brother, and I'm sure that deep down, he might feel some kind of affection for me but…"

"But…?" She prompted.

"But that doesn't mean he likes to be around me or look at me." Rukia finished dryly.

Momo finished off her vegetables and moved on to the petit portion of rice. She munched on that silently and then sighed. "Well, at least he won't be picking a husband for you anytime soon."

They both stopped chewing and looked up at each other at the same time.

Momo winced softly, "Too soon?"

"Little bit, yeah."

She swallowed and crinkled her eyes apologetically, "Sorry."

Rukia continued to stare down at her food and moved her utensils along her plate. The metal scraped against the glass and she listlessly swirled the noodles around her fork. Pieces of pork threatened to fall off the edge but she pushed them back before they could.

"Hey Momo…"

She paused and bit her bottom lip. Did she really want to do this? Tell her friend that she had actually gotten a response from the dating service? If she did… she knew that she'd be forced to go on a date with this Aramaki Makizou guy. This would actually be the point of using the dating service but… Rukia just didn't know if she was ready for it yet.

_Or is it because you're waiting for someone _else_?_

Rukia felt like stabbing herself in the throat with her fork. How dare she even _think_ something like that?! She had already made the decision not to sleep with him. So she wouldn't. Never. Absolutely not. Even if he did have the best body she had ever seen and the biggest erection she had ever—gulp—felt.

Plus he had given her the best kiss of her entire life… twice.

He was off limits because she worked with him, he was off limits because he was an arrogant asshole, and he was off limits because he was Ichigo Kurosaki. No, he was definitely off limits… and it was more than simply because she actually _wanted _him. Her sexual desire towards him played a major factor in her decision making process. Since she actually, truly, felt a great desire for him she, obviously, had to abstain. Having him would probably be the best night of her life. Yet the repercussions would be horrendous.

_Just another notch on his belt._ She thought darkly. That's all she'd be. She knew him, she knew the type of person he was, and she knew that all she'd ever be to him was just a simple conquest. She'd only be making it easier if she actually acquiesced.

_Eagerly_ acquiesced at that.

Momo was looking at her expectantly, she had even paused in her consumption of her sticky rice; she placed her fork on the plate and frowned softly at her friend.

In the end, Rukia chickened out. She knew that the information would be painfully obvious sooner or later. Hell, she'd probably end up blurting it out during lunch or on their Sunday runs, so she really didn't have to ruin the mood right now.

"Ah, how are the wedding plans coming?"

Momo's mouth opened immediately and Rukia leaned back in her chair.

_Ready, set, go._

-!!-

Rukia gave it two weeks before she finally caved in and told Momo about Aramaki Makizou. They were in the cafeteria eating their salads when she began to grow rather frustrated with all of Momo's comments about wedding—and how Rukia might never have one simply because she would never allow herself to get close to any man—so she spilled the beans. Quite on accident, of course, but hell, she was pissed. If she didn't want to get married then that was her business!

Momo, of course, had had a typical reaction. She stopped swallowing, promptly choked, cleared her throat, allowed her fork to clatter to the ground, gaped at her, widened her eyes, and sucked in a large breath.

"You _what_?"

"I got a response from the dating service," Rukia said the word slowly and quietly, both trying to make sure that Momo understood and to also make sure that no one else would hear what she said. Come on, a dating website? How pathetic was that for a young, single, attractive, well-off woman? It was sad that's what it was.

"And you didn't _tell_ me?" She whisper-screamed; Momo curved her fingers into claws and latched them onto the plastic table. Rukia only raised an eyebrow at her.

"I didn't tell you because I knew that you'd act like this." Rukia waved her hand around the table and sighed. "All freaked out and stuff."

"Damn right!" Momo cried, she looked frantically around the room and narrowed her eyes like she was thinking up some diabolical plot. "Come on!" She abandoned her food—wow, was this actually Momo?—and began tugging Rukia out of her seat.

"I haven't finished eating yet!" Rukia whined softly.

"I don't care." She seethed. She kept on yanking her, harder and harder, until finally, Rukia caved in. She allowed herself to be practically dragged to the nearest elevator and, once they had reached it, shoved inside.

Momo got in and pressed the button to Rukia's floor. Then she rounded on her.

This was actually the first time Rukia had been slightly scared of her best friend.

"What's his name?"

"Aramaki Makizou," Rukia answered immediately, all thoughts of being snide or difficult vanished when she saw that carnal look in Momo's eyes. "He's an assistant at a law firm near the outside of the city."

"Have you contacted him yet?"

Rukia silently shook her head.

The elevator dinged and once again, Momo's hand was clawing its way into Rukia's jacket, and her muscles were bodily pulling her into Rukia's own office. She pushed Rukia inside and she stumbled half-heartedly against her desk.

Momo had already taken up her position in Rukia's chair, inside of her desk, had opened her computer, and was typing in her password.

"How did you know my—"

"Chappy the Rabbit," Momo scoffed, "Yeah, that's _real _hard." She pulled up the internet and began to type furiously into the search bar. "Hey Ichigo."

Rukia whipped her head up and immediately felt her insides shrivel. Sitting at his desk, completely at ease with his surroundings, and munching on a hamburger and fries, was her business partner. The mirth in his eyes was evident as he casually observed Momo sabotaging Rukia's desk and computer.

"How's it going?" He asked, smirking lightly, as he pushed another French fry into his mouth.

"Just fine," Rukia murmured, turning back to her desk and looking down.

His eyes were hot on her back and she swallowed, moving her head down just a bit in order to try and hide her face.

Ever since that night at the hospital things had been weird between them. Rukia shuddered softly when she thought about it. He'd actually say nice things to her when the occasion arose, he'd ask about her brother, and once he had even brought her this huge basket of baked goods. He told her that his sister had made it for her and that he was just the messenger but still… it was kind of sweet.

It didn't really help that she couldn't stop thinking about him. About his kisses or the way he hugged her. In the hospital he had comforted her when even Momo hadn't. He had taken her out to eat and held her hand to make her feel better. He had done all of those things just to try and be kind to her.

She kind of felt bad that she wasn't really doing anything to reciprocate other than reining in the sharpness of her tongue. She wasn't as mean to him as she usually was, granted, they still had their share of verbal spats every now and then, and she still threw things at him regularly, but other than that, well, things were just different. He had even gone as far as to try and keep some reporters away from her over the past fourteen days. By day six Rukia had gotten so tired to running into people on the streets who would assault her with questions, cameras, and tape recorders. Apparently, when she told this to Ichigo, he had called Tatsuki and asked her to call off the hounds. They had relented somewhat.

He was just being so nice to her. It was only making her decision to stay away from him harder. The kinder he was the more she let her guard down. The more she let her guard down the more physical attraction she felt. The more physical attraction she felt… well, the more _business_ sessions she had with images of Ichigo fucking her senseless permeating her brain.

Oh but did she have very nice _business _sessions. Especially lately. Ever since she had seen what he looked like under that Italian tux of his; those rippling muscles, the pronounced pectorals, the ultra defined pack of abs, the sinew of his arms, and the fantastic cut of his solid back. Not to mention his enormously large erection as it pressed against her in a rhythmic, undulating, motion. Her legs wrapped around his back. His mouth on her breasts. His hands teasing her higher and higher until she was ready to—

"Okay, you're having a date with Aramaki Makizou exactly twelve nights from tonight. It's a Friday so if you two really hit it off you can do a little hanky panky and not worry about coming into work. You're going to a quaint little French restaurant called _Fleur_. You will meet him at exactly eight o'clock, you will wear that silky black dress that V's in both the back and the front and has a slit on the side."

"You mean my hooker dress?" Rukia demanded. Her brain was still silently reeling from all of the information that Momo had forced on her in a mere three seconds.

"Hooker dress?" Ichigo chipped in from the other side of the room. "How come _I've_ never seen this dress?"

"Take her on a date and you'll see it." Momo replied, cool as a cucumber. She swiftly exited the program, stood, and smiled at both Rukia and Ichigo. "Remember, next Friday, eight o'clock, hooker dress." She pointed a finger at Rukia and smiled menacingly, "Got it?"

"If I don't go?"

"I'll make emergency changes on the bridesmaids dresses to make sure you're wrapped in paisley and plaid, I'll change the dinner to make sure that its pineapple themed—because I know how you just _love _pineapples, and I'll ask my cousin Yumichika to be your date for my wedding. You remember Yumichika don't you? The one who always says things are _beautiful_ and wears those feathers—"

"Alright!" Rukia shouted, pressing her hands up against her ears, willing Momo to stop the flood of terrible things that could happen if she didn't go on this date. She _hated_ paisley and plaid, she _detested_ pineapples, and she absolutely _loathed_ Momo's cousin Yumichika. She had met him only once when he came to visit and couldn't stand to be in the same room with him for more than ten minutes. She even made up a story about having a pet cat at home that she needed to feed. "I'll go, just… don't do any of what you said you'd do."

A small smile appeared on Momo's face. "Okay… but you know, Yumichika _will_ be at the wedding." She winked wickedly at her, "I'll make sure you two have a dance." She turned towards the door but swiveled back at the threshold. "See you Ichigo."

"See you later Momo." He said. Rukia turned at the sound of his voice. It was a bit terser than it had been a few minutes ago with the hooker dress comment. He was still leaning back against his chair and his hands were still behind his head but his eyes, which had been playful and happy only a moment before, were sharp and bright and pointed directly at her. The door shut behind them and as soon as it did it felt like all the air was being sucked out of the room. It was thick and was almost palatable.

Rukia shifted uncomfortably from foot to foot and sat down swiftly in her seat. "What the hell is your problem?" She demanded snidely.

He was silent for a moment before he leaned forward onto his desk and gripped his hands together. "Online dating… _really_?"

The condescending tone in his voice made her blood boil. She whipped her head towards him and narrowed her eyes angrily. "So? What of it?"

He looked at her like she had just grown three heads. "You're shitting me, right?"

Rukia could feel her teeth grinding together, "Are you actually going to contribute more to the conversation or are you just going to continue to insult me?"

"Fine," he snapped, he stood up from his desk and in three strides had made it over to hers. Rukia shoved her body back into her chair and had even succeeded in pushing a little bit away before his hands came out and he wrapped his fingers around the arms of her chair. His head was only a few inches away from hers and his stare cut into her like a knife through butter. This position was meant to intimidate her but instead it brought back memories of the second time that they had really kissed. She told herself to keep her mind on his hands in case he decided to grope her breasts again.

"You, Miss Kuchiki, are far too intelligent, far too beautiful, and far too intense to ever go on an online dating website."

"Those are compliments," Rukia snipped, "Yet why do they sound like insults?"

"Because," he continued patiently, "You're basically tossing away everything you have on some silly notion that you'll actually find the guy for you on some random website."

"And why shouldn't I?" She demanded. "Why not if it might actually happen?"

He moved just a bit closer and this time, Rukia didn't bother shrinking back into her seat, she pushed herself upwards and touched her nose with his.

The left side of his mouth quirked up and he began to lean forward just a tiny bit. "Because _you_ know, and _I_ know, that you don't need romance, flowers, or chocolates. You need raw, carnal, hot, _primitive_ sex… and lots of it."

"And you can give it to me?" She whispered, teasing her lips against his.

"Hell yes," he moved his head down and began to kiss her neck, his mouth fluttering against her pulse and his tongue soothing the tiny bite marks he made.

Rukia felt like melting. This felt so good. It had been so long. She moaned low in her throat and shifted her legs together. The throbbing between her thighs intensified and she dared to rub her legs once again. Oh God this felt fantastic.

But, thankfully, she still had a brain.

"You know what?" She sighed, her common sense kicking in once again. She placed her hands on his chest and pushed him back. "As tempting as that might be… I don't think so."

He jerked back like he had just been stung with a cattle prong. "What?"

"Did I stutter?" She asked in a clipped tone. She pushed him further away but it was like shoving against a brick wall. "Like I told you before, I don't want to sleep with you, so get over yourself."

He jerked back again. His eyes were wide and his mouth was slightly open, half in surprise and half in, wait… was that _disgust? _What did he have to be disgusted about? Was he disgusted with her? For not wanting to sleep with him and ruin her life? She glared at him while he stumbled back, although he did manage to look like he was trying to sit on the edge of her desk.

"Get over _myself_? He repeated in disbelief. His mouth was left hanging open and she shook his head in incredulity. "Honey, I think this needs to go the other way around."

She narrowed her eyes, "Excuse me?"

"You heard me," he said, "You're the one who's fighting against what you really want. I really don't get it but somehow you're making yourself into some sort of self-righteous martyr." He scoffed, "Please woman, you think you're actually doing yourself a favor? You're just pissing yourself off and pissing me off."

"_You're_ pissing yourself off." She spat back, crossing her legs and inadvertently making her pussy throb. "It has nothing to do with me."

"There you go again," he snorted, "Making yourself into that damn sex martyr. You think that by abstaining from having sex with me that makes you a better person. You think that just because I have sex when I want with women who are appealing to me that I'm the bad person and that my priorities are skewed. You're the one who's off." He leaned forward and glared at her angrily. "By denying what you really want you're just making yourself more and more miserable."

Rukia's brain fizzled with anger. She couldn't believe he was actually talking to her like this. Fire burned in her retina's as she thought back on the last two weeks. He had been so nice to her. She had almost considered him as something of a _friend._ And now he was calling her a fraud, a martyr, and a miserable person. She gritted her teeth together and narrowed her eyes into slits. His bright, honeyed-amber eyes looked straight into hers as her fingers curled into claws and dug into her chair's arms.

"How dare you? You sick, selfish—"

"Son of a bitch, right?" He shook his head and went back to his desk. He only shot her one more look before shaking his head and turning to his computer. "You know what? Forget it. You're not even worth it."

Rukia was left speechless as he silently got to work.

_You know what? Forget it. You're not even worth it._

That hurt.

-!!-

Orihime Inoue walked slowly up the stairs to her apartment complex. Her heavy bags of groceries weighed down her arms and she huffed silently as she took the steps one at a time.

Today had been especially long. She had only seen Mr. Kurosaki three times. Once coming out of his office, once in the lunchroom, and once walking up to legal to get a few documents. She sighed fitfully and wiggled further up the stairs. It was always a long day when she wasn't able to see Mr. Kurosaki at least five times. She loved seeing that scowl of his whenever she could. His bright hair, his intense eyes, and his fantastic body in those wonderful suits.

Of course, she had seen less and less of him ever since that _woman_ started working with him. She narrowed her eyes and finally came in front of her door. She hated that woman. She was monopolizing all of Mr. Kurosaki's time, she was pulling him into situations where he didn't need to be in, and she was even touching him when she had no business being three feet away from him.

_Like that picture in the paper,_ she thought moodily as she shifted through her keys, trying to locate the proper one. Miss Kuchiki probably begged Mr. Kurosaki to come over to the hospital and see her. She probably set the whole thing up just to get some publicity. Orihime snorted, that would be just like her, using her brother's own very public tragedy for her own benefit.

She found the proper key and slid it into the slot. She didn't mind though. The merger would be over in a couple of months and by that time she'd have Mr. Kurosaki all to herself again. Ah, she couldn't wait to have that wonderful scowl of his back all to herself.

She pushed the door open and hummed softly. She was about to take a couple more steps forward when her heel-encased foot crinkled onto something soft. She frowned lightly and immediately placed her groceries on a spare table to the side. There, on the floor of her foyer, was a small, manila envelope. She turned her head to the side and frowned softly. She didn't know what the hell this thing was but curiosity won out in the end. Without a second thought she bent down and picked the thing up. She gently slid her finger under the flap and undid the metal clasp. She opened the envelope and fished inside. There were two small pieces of paper inside. One of them was stiff while the other was light. Now even more curious, she pulled the stiff one out first.

She gasped and nearly dropped everything she was holding. Her heart raced as she stared at the photo, her eyes bugging pitifully out of her head.

It was a photograph. It was grainy and black and white. Yet even under those circumstances Orihime could still make out everything that was inside of it.

Mr. Kurosaki was dressed in a tuxedo, he was standing inside of an elevator with Miss Kuchiki pressed up against him, her head was thrown back against the wall while his mouth was trailing hot kisses down her neck. One of his hands rested on her ass while another was on her waist, inching upwards to her breast. Miss Kuchiki looked like she was in heaven. Her legs were parted dramatically and, although Orihime could not see it, she knew that Mr. Kurosaki's very large erection was pressing into her.

She bit her bottom lip hard and jerked her head away from the picture. She didn't want to see it. She never wanted to look at anything so vile. Tears pooled in the bottom of her eyes and something even hotter raged in the pit of her stomach. She felt sick. She felt terrible. She felt angry. She felt… jealous.

It took her a moment to control her breathing and bring her heartbeat back to normal. Her stomach was roiling with pain at the thought of the paper clasped in her hand. She swallowed hard and turned her head away even further. The paper crinkled in her hands and she clenched her teeth together.

After a moment of controlled silence Orihime was calm enough to pull out the other piece of paper and looked at it. There was a message, written in letters cut out from magazines, it would have been creepy had she not already been seriously disgusted by the photograph. Orihime's eyes hardened when she read it.

_**Do you want Ichigo Kurosaki? I can help. Leave your answer on your door and we'll be in touch.**_

Orihime read over it twice before clenching her teeth together and storming into the kitchen. The photograph fell from her hand and onto the floor as she desperately searched for something to write with. She grabbed a piece of paper and a red pen. With a furious stroke she began to write. Once she was finished she stuffed the note into the same manila envelope and grabbed a piece of tape. With one smooth motion she opened the door, pushed the envelope onto it, and taped it to the wood.

She stared determinedly at it for one more minute before going inside and fixing her dinner. The message she had left had been simple.

_**Tell me what to do.**_

She smiled as she put away her groceries.

**(A/N: Now we're really getting interesting. If you actually like Orihime well, then… ah, this story is not for you. And for those of you who don't remember, Aramaki Makizou is Maki Maki, Yachiru's mustache man! **

**Wow, I'm really amazed at the response I got for the last chapter. It was fantastic!**

**Ugh, I haven't had time to write in ages! I've been so busy! Aren't you glad I made so many cushion chapters before I left for college—which has been going fantastically by the way!**

**THANKS TO EVERYONE WHO HAS REVIEWED SO FAR AND PLEASE CONTINUE TO REVIEW!!**

**P.S. I forgot who asked but yes, I beta all of my own stuff, so sorry if I let a few errors slip by.)**


	21. Chapter 20

**Disclaimer: I do not own Bleach or any Bleach affiliates.**

_**Odalisque**_

**Chapter 20**

**(Um… not giving anything away here but, ah… warning?)**

Rukia leaned in to the mirror and angrily put on mascara, eye shadow, and liner. She quickly moved the brushes so that the elements of her eyes were perfect and continued mumbling as she went along.

"Are you muttering again?"

She rolled her now perfect eyes and called out from the bathroom, "Gee, howe_ver_ could you tell?"

"You need to stop doing that," Momo chastised her. She was sitting in Rukia's living room, flipping through the latest issue of her favorite fashion magazine. She had brought it with her though; seeing as how Rukia sure as hell didn't read that garbage. "You need to start psyching yourself up for your date."

Rukia opened her blush container and began to poof it onto her cheeks. "Psyche myself up?"

"You know, like you do before a football game. Tell yourself you're going to have the best night of your life, tell yourself how pretty you are, and tell yourself how charming you are. It worked all the time for me." Momo chirped from the other room.

Rukia stopped, thought for a moment about what her friend had said, checked her reflection in the mirror and she smiled.

She _did_ look perfect.

She stepped a few feet away and rearranged the straps of her dress. She was wearing the dress Momo had suggested—or more or less, forced upon her—and matching shoes. The dress had a deep V in the front and one of the same size in the back. It had a tight waist and a flowing base that reached her knees. The slit on the sides went up to mid-thigh and made her feel exceedingly naughty. She grinned softly at herself.

_Who's not worth it now?_

She clenched her teeth together and brushed the thought from her mind. She twirled once in front of the mirror and then exited her bathroom. She walked down the hall and paused at the end of the threshold. Momo looked up from her magazine and grinned. "You are drop dead gorgeous."

"I know," Rukia answered breezily, flipping her hair over her shoulder. "So, what time is it?"

"Seven-oh-four," Momo answered immediately. "You only need about fifteen minutes to get to _Fleur_ and your date is at eight."

"Fantastic," she grinned, "I have just enough time to run by the drug store before I get to the restaurant."

"What do you need at the drug store?" Momo demanded immediately, her eyebrows wiggling copiously, "Hoping to pick up some extra-large rubbers for tonight?"

Rukia rolled her eyes and picked up her evening purse. "I just need to fill a prescription Momo, that's all. And besides, you've seen what this Makizou guy looks like… don't make assumptions."

"Whatever," Momo sighed, stood from her chair, and nudged Rukia with her elbow. "I'll walk with you then."

Together, they made their way down to the lobby and Rukia smiled at all of the stares she was getting from her neighbors. She opened the door and the cool autumn air blew comfortably against her face. She sighed softly and turned to Momo.

"I guess I'll call you later," she said, groaning fitfully.

Momo placed both of her hands on her shoulders and shook her softly. "You don't have to call me, I'll probably be with Toshiro anyway, and who knows?" She winked suggestively. "You might get lucky tonight."

Rukia narrowed her eyes, "As in, the date will end quickly and I'll be lucky enough to get a good nights sleep?"

Momo only rolled her eyes and turned away. "Whatever, my sex-starved friend." She waved on her way out and continued to stroll down the street.

Rukia shook her head and turned to walk down the opposite street. Her regular drug store was only a block a way so she really didn't mind walking in her nice shoes. Plus, it was a bit gratifying to get as many whistles and stares as she did. She hugged her stylish jacket tighter around her as she walked. Her skirt swished around her in the cool air and she hummed softly.

The doors to the pharmacy dinged as she strode inside and made her way to the back. She smiled at the ugly receptionist and gave her name and the prescription she needed. The woman smiled and began to busy herself finding what Rukia needed. Meanwhile, Rukia walked aimlessly around the store. It was small, not enough to be one of those drug stores that sold everything under the sun, but enough to have standard make up, facial cleaners, and therapeutic foot pads. Rukia shifted through one aisle, wondering if she needed a new tube of lipstick, when something caught her eye.

It was insignificant really. Just one of those catch phrases that made products become more likable to desperate women across the country. Hell, she even bought exclusively from this brand. She thought that it made her skin glow more than the others.

Still… that _one_ phrase.

Four _little_ words.

Four damn words in a tiny phrase… and they made her angrier than she had been all week.

_Because you're worth it!_ The sign read, with the picture of a bubbly blonde with perfect, computer generated skin, above the lettering.

Rukia gnashed her teeth together and felt her hands ball into fists. Yes, she _was_ worth it. Even if that goddamn Ichigo Kurosaki didn't think so.

"Fucking bastard," she snarled through gritted teeth and the eighty year old man down the aisle from her turned at the sound of her voice. Rukia picked up a powder substance and tossed it around in her hand.

She had been stewing over Kurosaki's comment for nearly two weeks now. Ever since he had said it she hadn't been able to get it out of her head. Twelve days of going to bed frustrated because that one statement kept on running through her head. Twelve days of glaring at him from across the office. Twelve days of absolute silence between them. Twelve damnable days of nothing but anger, hatred, and aggravation.

She hated it. She hated him. She hated hating him.

Rukia heard her name called from the prescription counter and stomped back to it. She paid, grabbed the bag, stuffed it into her purse, and headed out the door. The clang of the bell was nearly twenty paces behind her because of how fast she was walking. She knew that she'd have blisters by the end of the night but she didn't care. She was too angry to care.

She took the metro steps two at a time and slid her card through the turnstile. She got a few more hoots and hollers from more young men. She had half a mind to get their names and call them up for sexual harassment charges. She pushed her way onto the crowded train and gritted her teeth together hard.

"_You know what? Forget it. You're not even worth it."_

Her hand tightened around the germ infested pole and she glared absently in front of her.

How dare he? How dare he say something like that when _he_ was the one who wanted to sleep with _her_? _She_ wasn't worth it just because she said no? _He_ was the man-whore. _He_ was the one who had kissed her senseless in the elevator after the merger announcement. _He_ was the one who had groped her breast the following Monday. _He_ was the one who kept trying to kiss her. _He_ was the one who kept trying to get her to sleep with him.

_He! _Not _she!_

She clenched her fists and balefully looked up at the number of stops she had left. Four; she had four left until she reached _Fleur_.

"_I'm_ not worth it… bullshit!" She huffed, her words perfectly audible to all of the other passengers around her. One woman gave her a dirty look while her teenage son gazed at Rukia up and down with an odd mixture of appreciation and teenage hormones.

Rukia glared out of the darkened windows and growled like a tiger getting ready to pounce.

She was Rukia Kuchiki, member of the noble Kuchiki family. She was a corporate lawyer for one of the greatest company's in the world. She was worth a great deal of money—both because of her net worth and her family heritage. She was young, she was attractive, she was educated, she was elegant, and goddamn it she _was _worth everything!

Rukia stood up and immediately stomped to the doors of the metro train. They dinged open and she rushed out of them as quickly as she could. She was two stops short of where she was actually supposed to get off. She angrily huffed up the steps and emerged on a rather unfamiliar street. She knew where she was going though. Oh she definitely knew.

Her steps were furious and hurried as she moved to one of the tallest buildings on the very expensive street. Her eyes narrowed as she zeroed in on her target. The doorman saw her coming and had the door to the complex open before she could even step foot onto the expensive carpet. She gave him a curt nod and barreled into the lobby.

An older man was seated at the reception desk. He didn't seem to notice Rukia at all, but that might have been due to the dirty magazine in his hands—the cover, of course was hidden underneath a sheet of computer paper—the smile on his face, and the slight boner in his lap. Rukia came forward and slammed her palms flat onto his desk. The man jerked upwards and sent the magazine flying, he turned around, apparently to chastise her, when his eyes widened and raked down her entire body—or, what he could see of it at least. Rukia growled when she realized that she would be fueling his perverse mindset for the next hour or so.

"I'm here to see Mr. Kurosaki," she growled, her voice cutting through him like a razor through flesh.

"Sign here," he said in a quietly awed voice, passing her a sign in sheet. Rukia scrawled her name so it was unintelligible and pushed the clip board back.

"What floor and what apartment?" She demanded, her angrily glowing eyes frightening as soon as possible.

"Seventh floor, apartment eighty one."

She didn't even say 'thank you' before she was off, resuming her furious pace to the elevators. Once she was in one—empty, of course—she paced inside of it. Her brain was fizzing with anger as she stepped out and lividly made her way to apartment eighty one. She stopped in front of the door and had one desperate thought before her hand reared up and began banging on the door.

_He better not have a woman in there._

Rukia continued to pound the material of the door into mottled shreds of wood for at least a full minute—making her hand go numb in the process—before latches finally clicked and the fixture was finally swung open.

She shoved her way inside before he could even say anything. Hell, she had even gotten about six steps inside before he actually realized what was happening.

"Rukia? What the fuck are you doing here?"

He was cooking. He was actually cooking. Damn, she didn't even know that he _could _cook. It smelled great too. It wasn't the typical burger and fry combination she usually saw him eating. No… this was much, well, healthier.

Her eyes scanned his tasteful apartment for a moment before she swirled back to him. His place was very large, even larger with hers, with at least three other rooms hidden behind the hallway to the left of the kitchen. The living room had an ivory carpeted floor, a large, plasma screen television, a very nice, navy couch, a gas fire place, two cushy chairs, and a glass coffee table. Sports magazines, photos, trophies, medals and little knick-knacks decorated the space as well.

His kitchen was also very nice. He had top-of-the line pots and pans placed tastefully around the walls, cooking instruments on the marble countertops, an island with an oven on it, and—at the moment—what looked to be a stir fry pan filled with rather delicious looking vegetables, a pot of roiling pasta, and a bottle of open red wine scattered about. He had a small table off to the right of his kitchen. Windows were open above the table, wafting in fresh air from the outside as well as the dim glimmer of city lights.

But Rukia couldn't be distracted by that. She had come here with a mission in mind. She wasn't about to blow it.

She wheeled around and glared at him like she had never glared before. Gritting her teeth together and balling her fists at her sides she rooted herself into her spot and snarled. "I'm not _worth it_?!" She screamed.

He stood there for only a minute before he realized what she was talking about. Even then he had the nerve to smirk at her. He had the nerve to walk past her and go back into his kitchen. He had the nerve to chuckle lightly as he went back to stirring his vegetables, he simply turned down the heat and they simmered lightly. Rukia resisted the urge to take a long and good sniff before she got overtly angry again. So instead, her anger just doubled on its own.

"I am worth it!" She shouted, stomping towards him and pointing one deadly finger at him. "I am Rukia fucking _Kuchiki_! I am always worth _everything_."

"Oh sure," he chuckled, "You're Rukia Kuchiki, of course you're worth it." He simply shook his head and then looked over his shoulder. "It's twenty of eight." He sneered back at her and raised one eyebrow. "Don't you have a date to get to?"

"I'm not going anywhere," she growled angrily, moving closer and closer to the island until her hands were pressed against the cool marble top. "Until you admit that you were wrong."

His short bark of laughter was cut short when he slammed his stirring spoon down on the counter and crossed his arms over his chest. "Then you might as well cancel your date Sunshine because you're gonna be here a long time."

"You have no right," she seethed, leaning forward onto the counter, "To tell me that I am not worth it. _You're_ the one who is always trying to get into _my_ up my skirt. _You're_ the one who has been kissing me—"

"Oh like you didn't kiss back?" He interrupted.

"If I had as enthusiastically as I could have you would have been left in a state of shock." She snarled.

"Ha," he snorted, "I highly doubt that."

Rukia felt like a jungle cat ready to spring on an unsuspecting deer. She rounded the corner of the island and stood until her face was tilted up, his was down, and their noses were almost touching. Her nostrils flared as she growled, "I could show you right now."

His smirk told her that he was angry, pissed off, ready for vengeance, and aroused. "Honey, if you do this I doubt you'll leave this apartment tonight."

"I can walk away." She snapped, she reached up and fisted her hands into the collar of his dress shirt—which he still hadn't changed out of.

"I'd like to see you try." He hissed, his nose bumping against hers.

Rukia surged up and her lips collided with his. He wasted no time at all. Ichigo's tongue violently shoved itself into her mouth and his hands gripped the undersides of her ass tightly. It was as if he was afraid that if he didn't hold her hard enough she would push him away again.

Not yet. Not before she showed him.

Rukia battled violently with his tongue. Her lips pushed fervently against his as she angled her head to the side. It was as if she was trying to fucking eat him whole. She groaned deeply in her throat when his hands started to knead her ass. It felt good. Too good. The vegetables simmered beside them as she clawed her hands into his hair and pushed him even harder against her. His hot orifice clashed with hers and she growled low in her throat. They kissed for nearly another full minute before she heard the exact same sound come from Ichigo's throat.

It was in that exact moment that she realized how stupid she'd been. Right now she knew that she was in far too deep to just walk away.

She would not be leaving Ichigo's apartment tonight.

Rukia's arms curled tighter around his neck and she gasped when she felt his rough and calloused hands yank her upwards and thrust her onto the kitchen counter. She gasped at the sudden movement but the sound never left her mouth. Ichigo was fastened to her as tight and as hot as he could. His mouth was wet and warm and utterly delicious. She groaned deep in the pit of her throat as his tongue did ferocious battle with hers. His teeth nipped at her bottom lip, her fingers tightened in his hair, and his hands grabbed her ass tighter and tighter.

Her pussy was already throbbing under the fabric of her dress. She could practically feel herself dripping with the desire she felt for him. Oh fuck, if his hand would just slide between her thighs, or if his cock would slip between her folds, she knew that she'd be fantastically and euphorically happy.

His hands left her buttocks and curled around her back. His lips were still doing frenzied war with hers and she unleashed an almighty moan when he slid her ass forward on the sparkling white countertop. Her legs spread on their own volition and that was when she felt him.

Rukia's eyes flew open and her mind went numb when she felt his hard, engorged, length press against her increasing wetness. She thought she had gotten an idea of him during their little tryst in the elevator but that had been nothing compared to what she felt right now.

Her body sizzled in anticipation when his chest molded to hers, pushing the part of him that she wanted the most even closer to her center. Her legs felt like gelatin as he continued to kiss the ever-loving daylights out of her.

Maybe she was going a bit too fast with this. After all, she had only been inside of his apartment for, well, less than five minutes. Now she was having sex with him on his kitchen counter while there was food cooking on the burner next to her ass? Was she insane? Where was the calm, cool, and collected Rukia Kuchiki that had left her own apartment today? Where the hell was the corporate attorney, the sister of Byakuya Kuchiki, the smart, successful, businesswoman? Where was the woman who told herself that she wouldn't sleep with Ichigo Kurosaki because it would exponentially damage her career? More than that, who was this wonton, sex-starved, crazy woman who had taken her place?

_This is the woman who hasn't had really good sex in nearly four years,_ her mind seethed. _Get over yourself and fuck his fucking brains out!_

He barely seemed to notice her moment of indecision. Or, for that matter, that she was hot and ready and aching to be driven into by his massive length. His attention was solely focused on her mouth, so much so that her hunger grew tenfold. He kissed her like there was nothing left for him to do today but kiss her. He seemed to forget that he had pasta boiling on the stove or vegetables in the pan. Right now it seemed like the only thing he ever wanted to taste was her.

Ichigo's hot mouth slid to the side of her neck and he began to place wet, fiery, breath-stealing, orgasm-inducing, open-mouthed kisses onto her rouge skin. His teeth scraped the tight cords of muscles protruding from her throat and his tongue laved the marks it left behind. She craned her head to the side so she might give him more room to work his tantalizing magic. Her ruby lips parted and her lungs gasped for breath.

Her body seemed to vibrate with the moans she was eliciting. One of her hands slid upwards into his hair and gripped as tightly as she could. The other began to slide precariously down his body. Over his shoulder, down his chest, trailing over his abdomen, and then down to the part of him that she wanted to feel the most.

Ichigo Kurosaki was a blessed man.

Something she had never heard before escaped his throat the moment her small hand ran down the length of him. He was pushing so insistently through his pants and her body hummed at the thought of that length thick hot inside of her. His mouth was still busily feasting on her neck but her hands seemed to have minds of their own. She shivered as her persistent hand continued to stroke him up and down. He jerked in her hand and she shuddered at the power she felt.

The controlling and all-mighty Ichigo Kurosaki could tremble underneath her touch.

His pelvis pushed forward hard and slammed his thick length into her. She jerked her head back and he began to kiss the front of her throat. The sensation was like nothing she had ever felt before. The sensitive area was sweet and tender and so responsive to his touch. His teeth scraped over her voice-box and she let out a strangled gasp. Now her hands were no longer on his body, they were behind her, angling her form so she could support herself against this delicious onslaught.

The fingers that had groped her ass only moments ago began to slide forward. Rukia's rather revealing dress skirt had already been pushed upwards more than she would have allowed—thanks in part to the slit on the sides, but hell, this _was_ her hooker dress. Still, Rukia knew where this was headed and right now, she couldn't care if he ripped the damn thing to pieces. The feeling of his rough padded fingertips sliding from the silkiness of her dress to her heated flesh was nearly enough to throw her into an orgasm. She groaned and jerked underneath him as the sensation of his hands sliding up her clothing.

Christ! It had been so long since she had been intimate with an actual man! She was so sick of using her stupid vibrator that couldn't do anything but make her come, and even that was getting harder now that she had had the touch of a man to dream about instead. She never really realized how much she missed the foreplay, the passion, the heat, and the intensity that was all wrapped up in sex. Hot, sweaty, countertop sex with men she would like to see chained to a bed.

_The chains will come later,_ she promised herself halfheartedly. _Right after the—_

Rukia's mouth opened in a started gasp when she felt the cooled, marble, countertop against her bare ass. And her bottom was indeed bare. Ichigo's fingers were dragging her black silk underwear away from her ass as slowly as he wanted. She groaned fitfully as they peeled away from her dripping center. The lace had practically melted into her skin because of him.

"Oh fuck," Rukia breathed. Her chest was heaving and her breasts yearned to be touched. Her arms were her only supports as she attempted to keep herself propped up against the counter. Ichigo's mouth was still wrecking havoc on her neck. He was kissing her collar and nipping at her throat. She was quite sure that her entire body was a bright, cherry, red. Her cheeks were scarlet and as such her mind was sizzling with the intense heat. She groaned and leaned forward.

The result was catalytic.

The cold counter top against the heat of her throbbing pussy was far too much for her to bear. She let out a sharp cry that echoed throughout his apartment. His mouth shot up from her neck and Rukia's hands clamed onto his shoulders. Her body was quivering under the intensity of what was happening to her. She could feel him, hot and ready, against her bare self. He was pressing agonizingly through his clothes and she wanted to let him find some sort of release. _She_ wanted release. She wanted to be pummeled into harder and faster than she had even experienced in her life. She wanted him. She wasn't going to push him away this time. She didn't think she could.

"Oh God Ichigo," she groaned. She couldn't help but curve her spine and push her breasts into his chest. Her nipples were pebbles against his solid walls of muscle but his hands didn't leave their places on her thighs. He was stroking her, readying her, pulling her closer to him.

Her hands curled into claws and she raked her nails down his body until her fingers found what they had touched only moments ago. She gasped when she felt him again but this time around her sounds were swallowed by yet another erotic kiss. He was even larger than he had been a few moments ago—if that was even possible. Both of Rukia's hands fondled him with more urgency than before. His kiss became harder and more desperate as she felt his control beginning to weaken.

Her nails raked down the tent of his pants and she felt him shake dangerously. His hands were sliding down her thighs, in towards the center, moving closer and closer to the place she wanted to be touched. She could feel his fingers tickling her dripping bed of curls. He brushed the outside of her center and she jerked hungrily against him.

Meanwhile her fingers were doing their own desperate searching. She gasped and moaned against his mouth, her breasts were striving against his chest, and her nails were busy tearing off his belt, ripping open his pants, and setting free what she wanted embedded so deeply inside of her.

Trembling, she reached down and gripped him. Her entire hand wrapped around his length, stroking him diligently and with obvious purpose. She tested him, felt him ready and wet at the tip; she gripped him and felt him pulsating for her.

He jerked his mouth away from hers and she felt his intensely amber eyes pierce her hazy violet ones. His head was jerking back and forth in slight but intense disagreement. She frowned hard but he only pulled his mouth into a sloppy grin and bent next to her ear. His next statement not only made Rukia long for his clearly functioning thought patterns but also for his darkly whispered promise to come true. His hot breath flowed past her ear and teased the delicate hairs of her nape. Rukia's body reacted and her grip on him tightened even more.

His deliciously steaming breath cascaded down the side of her throat and Rukia moaned softly. His hands slid between her legs and she gasped when his digging fingers pried her legs away from each other even further. Her body hummed when she felt his fingers graze over her pussy.

His head was now level with her breasts. Her fuzzy brain wondered how he had gotten there but she was more focused on his inquisitive fingers than his head. She could still feel his searing breath against her body. It was seeping through her thin clothes and spreading over her skin. She felt like she was on fire.

She could no longer see his head in front of her. Hairs from his head were no longer tickling her chin and she looked around blearily to see where he had gone.

It wasn't until she felt the intrusion of a slender, wet, teasingly erotic tongue into the place that was throbbing the hardest that she knew what was going on. Rukia's head was thrown back and her mouth opened wide. Her eyes were closed and her legs were clamped around Ichigo's head buried between her thighs.

"Oh… g-_god_ Ichig-go!" Rukia cried. Her hands surged forward to grip his hair; she wound her fingers around the flaming orange and scraped her nails against his scalp. If he experienced any discomfort he sure as hell didn't show it. His tongue was too busy making a leisurely exploration of her slick and intimate sex. He tasted her up and down, probing gently into her but withdrawing before her pleasure came to an end. She gasped hard and jerked herself further onto him. Pressing herself hard and hot against his talented tongue. She groaned when she felt his lips clamp onto her clit and suck. This was more than she had ever experienced. He tilted his head and she whimpered when his tongue pushed hard into her.

The string of expletives that formed in her mouth were never released. Her tongue choked them back into her mouth before she could even get them out. She felt like she was drowning. Ichigo's tongue was curling in circles around her tightly wound pussy and his teeth were nipping and biting at her clit. His fingers were brushing against her and alternately pushing inside of her. He was driving his tongue and his fingers so far into her. She couldn't think, she could barely breathe, her body was in flames and her mind was spinning out of control.

"Oh… g-god!" She cried and she felt her insides collapse with a force unlike anything she had ever felt before. Her muscles clenched hard around Ichigo's fingers and tongue and she flowed beneath him like an orgasmic river. His tongue lapped at everything. She shivered hard and his fingers pummeled into her still. His lips clasped over her numb clit and suckled diligently.

Only when every drop of her had been swept up by his tongue did he finally raise his head. Her hands stayed fastened in his hair as he slowly came up. His eyes bored into hers and she bit her lip hard when she saw what was in his gaze. Heady desire, glazed by passion, shined into her face.

She jerked his head towards hers and forced his mouth back onto hers. He groaned and wrapped his arms around her back as he kissed her back. Her mouth opened to him and she shuddered when she tasted her own juices on his tongue. She grunted hard and shoved herself against him. Her pelvis smashed against his and his length pushed hard into the side of her thigh. She groaned and one of his hands wove up to her chest. His fingers hungrily groped her breast and she yelped.

His mouth was feasting hard on hers and his hand was pushing away the strap on her top. Rukia couldn't wait for that. She couldn't wait for him to full undress her or for her to do the same to him. He had already pleasured her and now she wanted him to have the same kind of release. She wanted him inside of her. She wanted more.

Her hand reached down from his hair and went straight for his cock. Her hand gripped him tightly and she brought his rigid member from the side of her thigh to right in front of her. His mouth ripped off of hers in a startled gasp. Rukia's hand guided him as she pulled the tip of him over her hot and slick opening.

"Shit," he breathed and Rukia took that as a sign of consent. Without further ado she slid forward on the counter and pushed his huge cock into her. She groaned hard at the intrusion and briefly took a moment to thank the gods for bestowing such an enormous blessing onto Ichigo Kurosaki. Her head dropped back and his hands moved down to her ass to bring her even further forward. She whimpered and sighed when he stilled inside of her. She could feel him, in all of his glory, pulsating and throbbing and pushing against her cervix and her inner walls.

Inaudible words were coming from his mouth and she gasped when he buried his head into the crook of her neck. His lips were moving against her skin, forming words that had no meaning, saying things she couldn't comprehend, sending tingles like she had never felt before down her spine.

"O-oh… fuck," Rukia crooned, nearly having an orgasm just from him being encased within her. "Ichigo." She pleaded. Her hands moved to wind around his back and his shoulders. She pushed herself closer to him. She had to feel him everywhere.

What occurred next was only a blur of mind-numbing pleasure. Ichigo pulled away from her only to slam back in so hard that Rukia's shrill scream of enjoyment echoed on Ichigo's walls. Ichigo's body moved again and again, slowly gaining speed until Rukia was clinging to him and begging for release. His hands gripped her buttocks tightly as his pelvis thrust into her. His teeth bit into her neck and her nails dug intensely into his scalp. Sweat poured off of his forehead when she began to thrust up in response. Her hips met his halfway and the sensation was mind-blowing.

Rukia could feel herself ready to explode, the pressure was building up again so hard that she could barely contain herself. Ichigo was almost there as well. She could hear it in the small wheezes and shuddering grunts that were escaping his mouth. Desperately, she dragged her head back to his and shoved her lips onto his. Their kiss was fierce and hot; both fought for dominance as their bodies oscillated against the kitchen counter. Utensils clattered to the floor and food continued burning as Ichigo and Rukia competed to see who would come first.

Rukia's body was sent into cartwheels as her pussy spasmed. Her orgasm hit her so hard that her eyes rolled into the back of her head. The sensation of Ichigo thrusting in and out of her while she gripped him hard and hot was overwhelming. Not a moment later, a choked, gasping, sound echoed from Ichigo's throat. She felt warm and sticky liquid fill her insides and slide down her thighs. Her mouth had to be wretched from Ichigo's just so she might be able to breathe. Her chest heaved with the effort and her body tingled with the after-effects of what had just happened.

Sweat slid down her temples and her breasts as she sat on the countertop, panting, blinking, and clutching Ichigo. He seemed to be having difficulty just standing up properly. His body was heavy and solid against her. His head was cradled between her shoulder and neck, his breathing was labored, and his lips were lazily grazing her exposed skin.

They stayed that way, listening to each others breathing and attempting to control their frantic heartbeats, for a while. Ichigo was still lodged inside of her and—to his credit—he sure as hell wasn't getting any smaller.

Rukia swallowed heavily and tried to ease the ever-loving panic that was now settling inside of her stomach.

_Oh god,_ she thought traumatically, _if I thought that one kiss complicated things then I can't even imagine what this'll do._

Before she could think of anything else, her body jolted slightly when she felt Ichigo slide himself out of her. She had to bite her lips so a moan wouldn't escape from her mouth. He slowly brought his head up to hers and Rukia got a chance to look into those bright and heady amber eyes. They were unreadable, but then again, that was no surprise. A frown creased his forehead but it wasn't like the other frowns she had come to know. His face was somewhat peaceful, to say the least.

Rukia leaned her head forward to rest against his. Her breathing was a bit more controlled than before but his was beginning to pick up again. Rukia glanced into his eyes and balked at the unheeded desire that was still burning inside of them.

Rukia's breathing grew harder the longer he stared. She gulped and felt her body trembling softly.

She could see what he wanted. It was there, plain as day…

More sex.

He wanted to continue this little fiasco until their energies were _completely_ spent. Rukia would have objected to such a glower in his eyes but…

But she wanted it again too. Badly.

Rukia's mind spun as she considered what she could—should—do.

They had already had sex so their business relationship was ruined from this point on. She didn't really see why they couldn't have sex again since they couldn't possibly decimate their twisted working relationship any further than they already had. What harm would it do them right now?

She hadn't had sex in _so_ long and now it felt _so_ good. She really wanted to feel him again. She wanted to fuck him six ways from Sunday. She wanted to be on top and underneath and maybe in front with him coming at her from behind.

Her skin began to hum again as she thought of the ways they could use each other's bodies tonight. She could have sex, she could give him sex, and then she could leave in the morning and just forget it ever happened.

_Like hibernating_, she thought, _I'll stock up on sex before going back to being relatively celibate._

Rukia's hands began to run up and down his arms, which were still encased in a long-sleeved shirt. His eyes were beginning to glow in the cool light of the kitchen. Still looking him straight in the eye, she reached over to the other side of the countertop and grappled for her purse. His gaze flickered over to hers and she swallowed hard when his hands rose to start massaging her hips.

She pulled out her cell phone and gripped it in her hand as she gingerly slid down from the counter where she had just had sex. Just the thought of what happened here made her mind and her face flush with heat. She took several deep breaths, attempting to steady her breathing as her feet found steady solace on the ground. With one final look into Ichigo's burning eyes, she turned around and rested her elbows on the top.

Behind her, Ichigo sucked in a strangled breath but she felt the cloth of her dress slide back over her skin. Just as well too. She knew that presenting her ass to him like this might be a risk. What if he decided to fuck her again before she did what she needed to do? Oh well, she needed a bit of quiet.

She flipped open her cell phone and dialed information. She cleared her throat and hoped it didn't squeak when she spoke.

"_Fleur _restaurant, please."

She felt Ichigo head come down beside of hers. He began to trace his lips up and down her throat and nibble on her distended ear lobe.

Rukia heaved a shuddering breath and pushed her ass against him. She could already feel his erection against her. Oh Christ it felt good. He wasn't lying about that refractory period of his. Five minutes was nothing to him.

"_Fleur_ restaurant, how may I help you?" The snooty voice on the other end of the line asked.

"Yes," Rukia began, her voice was actually quite clear, considering how Ichigo's mouth was still working hard on her throat and his erection was pressing enormously between her ass cheeks. "I'd like to speak to Aramaki Makizou please; I was supposed to have dinner with him tonight."

"One moment ma'am."

Ichigo's hand slipped under her dress and between her legs. Right to that place where she was wet and hot and ready for another go. He slid one finger inside of her and began to pump her. It took all of her self control not to start moaning like a whore on the telephone.

"Hello, Aramaki Makizou speaking."

"Aramaki," Rukia said, fighting diligently to keep her voice steady, "This is Rukia Kuchiki, we were supposed to meet for dinner."

"Supposed to?"

Oh Lord, he actually sounded disappointed. _Who gives a fuck?_ Rukia thought haphazardly as she ground herself against Ichigo's fingers. She was having sex! She shouldn't feel bad about standing up some other guy if he was having actual, honest-to-God, hot, sweaty, unbelievable, sex.

"I'm sorry," she lied, "But something happened with my friend and her wedding plans, you know Momo, the one who—" Ichigo bit down on her pulse… _hard_, "Got us together?" Rukia ended up squeaking out the last part.

"Yes?"

"There's been an emergency and I really need to see her for s-some g-g-girl t-time." Ichigo's thumb was teasing her clit while two of his other fingers were slowly—ever so fucking slowly—pumping into her.

"Oh… well, that's too bad. I guess we'll just reschedule then. How about—"

"Aramaki," Rukia interrupted before he could get the words out, "How about I just call you?" She kept it short and sweet, it was all she could actually do at this point.

"Sure… you go be with your friend." He said, doubt and disappointment evident in his tone.

Rukia didn't care. She was coming. She was really, fucking, coming, on Ichigo's hand… his fingers… she was coming.

"Okay, bye," she gasped and clicked the phone shut just in time to place her hand in her mouth, squeeze her eyes, shut, and scream at what she was feeling.

She rode the waves of her orgasm until she was boneless against the counter. Ichigo's erection was pressing into her even harder than she had ever imagined before. She swallowed and felt him pull her up, spin her around, and press her to his chest.

He lowered his mouth to her ear and whispered, "I told you that you wouldn't leave this apartment tonight."

Rukia's head shot up and she glared at him. "Just shut up." She growled, right before she threw herself on him, and kissed him.

Ichigo only smiled into her kiss before flipping off all of the stove switches and stumbling towards his bedroom.

**(A/N: So… I know what you all are thinking: FINALLY!!**

**Enough said.**

**Hope you enjoyed the chapter and PLEASE DON'T FORGET TO REVIEW!**

**This chapter goes out to ecogirl who had her b-day on Thursday! :D )**


	22. Chapter 21

**Disclaimer: I do not own Bleach or any Bleach affiliates.**

_**Odalisque**_

**Chapter 21**

Rukia blearily opened her eyes. She felt like her retinas were swimming through some type of oozing molasses. Her head was swinging and she moaned softly at the woozy sensation. Her body felt like gelatin. Her mind felt like ooze. She drew in another, long, satisfying breath and tried to gain some sort of perspective over her body.

She was naked, she was exhausted, and she was, ah, what was the word… _draped_, over another hard, muscular, body.

She swallowed thickly and immediately felt as though cotton balls had just been shoved down her throat. She groaned and found one of her hands hidden underneath a pillow. She raised it to her forehead and wearily rubbed her fingers against her eyes.

Okay, so she could feel her face; that was good enough for now. She sighed and moved onto the other parts of her body. Her breasts tingled from their position as they pressed against a flat, warm, surface. Her limbs felt rubbery. The lower part of her body throbbed from repeated use and she allowed a small smile to curl onto her lips. Her head was turned to the side, her ear was resting on that warm stretch of flatness and she could hear a steady thumping underneath it.

She raised her head slightly and pressed her chin onto that slightly fuzzy surface and squinted into the darkness.

Ichigo was resting peacefully on his back and she was lying on top of him. One of her legs was draped over both of his, her breasts were pressing into his chest, and her right arm traversed the muscled expanse of his pectorals. Raising her head even more she glanced at the bedside table and tried to make out the numbers on his alarm clock.

She let out a small scoff of exhaustion when she saw that it was nearly five thirty in the morning. Her head flopped back onto Ichigo's chest and she wiggled softly to get closer to him. He was _so_ warm and his skin was fuzzy and soft as it slid against hers. She sighed contentedly as she pressed her cheek against his clavicle.

This was just so nice.

Rukia's eyelids popped open. She jerked like a flailing fish until her body was completely away from his. He grumbled in his sleep and tossed his head to the side but did not awaken. She bit her bottom lip and looked at the clock once more. She was okay; it was only five thirty. That would give her enough time.

As quietly and as gently as she could Rukia threw off the sheet and slid, stark naked, out of the bed. She began searching for her clothes in the darkened bedroom with her weary eyes. Within a few minutes she found her dress but she couldn't—for the life of her—find her own underwear. She could see Ichigo's boxers of course—tossed to the floor like a used tissue—but she highly doubted that wearing those would be acceptable.

Her cheeks burned after a moment when she realized that he had taken them off and thrown them onto the counter the night before. They were probably still there.

_Christ I hope they didn't land in anything he was cooking._ She pleaded fervently.

Rukia raised her hands and slid the dress over her head. She fixed it quickly onto her body and thought of the horrid ride on the metro she would have. God, all those stares… she knew that every single woman in the car would be able to take one look at her and know that she had had her brains fucked out all night long.

She exited the bedroom as fast as she could and found her jacket in the hallway.

_Ichigo slammed her up against the nearest wall and she gasped when the cool paint hit her bare ass. His hands worked furiously at her shoulders and she grunted as he tried to pry her tasteful jacket from her shoulders. She had to unwrap her arms from around his neck and press them back against the wall. She heard the fabric hit the ground and moaned when he took both of her wrists and pinned them with his one hand. He explored her fully with the other, cupping her breasts, teasing her nipples, and smoothing over her curved bottom until she was fighting to be free, just so she could touch him back._

_Finally he was able to rip her away from the wall and toss her into the bedroom._

She picked up her jacket, slipped it onto her arms, and tied it securely around her waist. Her breathing was shallow as she came back into the kitchen and saw Ichigo's abandoned food. The pasta was limp in the pot and the vegetables were withered in the iron pan. With a sigh of relief Rukia located her underwear; they were precariously hanging off of a slotted stirring spoon near the edge of the counter.

She slowly slid them on and cringed at the tenderness of her thighs. She began to lightly hyperventilate when she thought of what had happened after their little foray in the kitchen. Back to when she had been tossed—half naked—on top of Ichigo's king size bed.

Come to think of it, that time had been one of the only times that night that they had actually spoken—to each other, at least. Occasional moans and curse words were frequent throughout the night.

_Ichigo slid the dress over her as she desperately tried to yank his pants down as far and as fast as she could._

_She was panting hard and wanted him back inside of her almost immediately. His head was already down by her collarbone. He was nipping and laving at her shoulder and Rukia reached down to grip his cock._

_He mumbled something against her neck and she frowned softly._

"_What?" She gasped, tugging and testing him with her hand, he groaned and grew harder._

"_Are you on birth control?" Was what he asked in his desperately breathless voice._

_Rukia didn't even bother to scold him for not asking if she was on some type of birth control before he fucked her on the kitchen counter. Although in all honesty he really didn't seem to care whether or not she said yes. It seemed as though he was planning on doing her whether or not she was properly protected. Arrogant ass._

_He didn't wait for her to answer him. He wasn't even slowing down a bit. His cock was inching towards her, she wasn't stopping it either._

"_Yes!" She cried when his teeth sunk into her shoulder. "Oh, fuck yes!"_

_With that he had rammed himself into her and she had nearly passed out in pleasure._

She quickly adjusted her dress and desperately tried to find some sort of reflective surface. The only bathroom that she had gotten a glimpse of in this place was through Ichigo's bedroom—although she didn't know why, what about guests? Visitors? Would they want to go through his bedroom just to use the bathroom?—and she did not want to go back in there.

She settled for the tiny mirror in the compact hidden inside of her purse. She fixed her rumpled hair as best she could, wiped away her make up with a wet paper towel, and tried to reapply a bit of mascara, just so she wouldn't look like completely satiated death on the metro train.

Rukia hummed mechanically as she searched for her shoes. One was halfway hidden underneath the oven and the other was thrown recklessly into the hallway. She slid them on with a small groan. Bending over like this to slip the thick material onto her feet made her insides spasm with pain… and glee.

Good _God_ she was sore.

They had fucked three more times before they had finally collapsed into a pile of boneless limbs. Rukia shuddered when she thought of all of it. There had been the sex on the counter and then another bout of normal front-to-front sex following. What had been really fantastic though, was when he finally recovered—bless that short refractory period of his—and turned her around. She had made some sort of protesting sound only to be silenced a minute later when Ichigo slid into her from behind.

Her abdomen spasmed again and she thought she might just come at the thought of it.

Still, while the other times had been some of the most mind-blowing sex she had ever received, what had been truly, euphorically, and beautifully wonderful had been their last time. Rukia clenched her teeth as it passed like a video through her mind.

_Ichigo shut his eyes tight and a long, sensual, moan escaped his lips. Rukia grinned slickly and began to kiss her way up his chest. His sternum rose and fell sporadically under her tongue. She crawled up his body and found him hard and ready… again._

_She let a small chuckle come out of her throat as she ground her pussy into him. He hissed and gripped her hips with his hands. Rukia knew that in the morning she would have to check for bruises, but right now she didn't care, she just wanted to see him below her. Writhing, panting, thrusting… she wanted it all._

_Without further ado she slipped him inside of her and bit down on his shoulder all at once. He grunted and clasped her hips even harder._

"_Fuck!" He gasped, arching his back and pushing himself even further into her. She nearly lost it when she felt him going deeper and deeper but managed to maintain her concentration. Slowly, methodically, and torturously she began to grind against him in small circles. He started to choke on his own pants and she laughed into his neck. She continued rhythmically, slowly, and agonizingly. He was straining beneath her. She could tell that he wanted to just flip her over and start thrusting into her like a wild beast but she held him back._

_His hands were running up her back, caressing her ass, and fondling the sides of her breasts. He was wheezing into her hair and jerking even further and further into her. She felt her body began to tingle and she bit down on his neck harder. Her orgasm was slow and prolonged. She shuddered helplessly against him as she came. He moaned when he felt her gripping him tight and she knew that he didn't have much longer to go before he came._

_His release was powerful and hot. Rukia gasped hard and bit down even harder. She felt him jerk against her bite but she ignored it. Everything just felt so good. Too good. She had to stop…_

Oh yeah, she had been on top. She had seen that it nearly killed him to allow her to do it but from the look on his face after he had come… _damn_, he had practically told her that he was more than willing to let it happen again.

Not that it would ever happen again. Never.

She pulled her purse up to her shoulder and began to walk towards the front door. She was completely conscious of the way the skin on her inner thighs stuck together as she strode. She also had to contend with the small limp in her step.

A small shudder ran through her body as she headed for the back door. If she had to go outside she definitely didn't want to start her walk-of-shame early.

-!!-

Thirty minutes ago Ichigo had been warm. Now he was cold. He wondered if he had accidentally kicked off his blanket.

A low groan escaped his throat and he rolled slightly to the side. Through his fuzzy, sex-satiated brain he could already plan out the days events. It was Saturday so he and Rukia had all freaking day to fuck each other. He'd just roll to the side, start stroking her back, hopefully wake up a bit more—in both the northern and southern regions of his body—and then do her any way he wanted.

He grinned into his pillow and allowed a small snicker to escape him. Last night they had done it in all of his favorite positions. _All_ of them. It was especially thrilling to take her from behind. She had seemed a bit wary at first but once she realized what he was doing she was immediately on board. He loved how she gasped and jerked against him. How when he snaked his hand around and rubbed her clit she had had to bite the pillow in order to keep from screaming.

Then, after she had come again, he had pulled his fingers to his mouth and tasted them. She tasted like sweet, juicy, fruit. Forbidden fruit and at that jazz. It was fantastic.

He thought, after he fucked her from behind, that she had been exhausted enough to fall right to sleep. But she hadn't. Once they had taken a short, ten minute break—both breathing hard and fast while lying next to each other—she had done something he normally wouldn't have allowed.

She climbed on top of him.

When he slept with other women he always made sure that he was on top—in some form or another. It was his preferred position and everyone else didn't seem to mind. Still, she had gotten on top of him and taken it slow. He hated going slow while having sex. It usually made him feel sluggish or tired. But what she had done… oh fuck… making small circles while simultaneously going up and down, ramming herself so far over him that he felt her radiating warmth throughout his entire body. Christ, it had been phenomenal. All he did was lie on his back and grip her hips. The way she bit his neck too… it had been animalistic enough for him. He bet he still had that bite mark.

Maybe having her on top now and again was an option he would have to keep open.

"Rukia…" he sighed, he rolled over to the other side of his bed and placed his arm on top of…

… An empty bed.

"Huh?" His body was immediately alert. He sat up, allowing the sheet to drop down a bit more. It rested on his legs as he raised a hand to scratch the top of his head. She wasn't there. Ichigo's slowly functioning brain began to creak. He looked around the room. She wasn't there either.

"Fuck," he mumbled. He looked blearily to the side and caught sight of his boxer shorts. Tugging them up—with the unhappy realization that he'd just have to remove them once again when he found Rukia—he began walking towards the kitchen on stiff limbs.

"Rukia?" He called, his voice cracking with early morning sleepiness. He rubbed his eyes with his fingers and wondered if she was sitting on his couch.

She wasn't in his living room. He frowned again and looked over to the kitchen. She wasn't there either. He half expected to seeing her at his little table, munching on cheerio's or something equally as bland. Or… hell, it would have been exceedingly hot to see her making something—like eggs—dressed in only an apron and her milky white skin.

Ichigo shuddered as the fantasy started to play out in his mind.

However, she wasn't there and he had to content himself with just a mental image of her in nothing but an apron. He continued looking. He couldn't seem to find her anywhere.

Ichigo scratched the back of his head again and tried to think about this. He looked back to his hallway and blinked. Where were her shoes? Her jacket? He moved back into his room and wondered where her dress was. And for that matter, what about her panties on the counter—that had been _so_ sexy—and her purse? What happened to all of her clothing?

Okay, he had to piece this together slowly. She was gone. Her clothing was gone. One plus one equals…

"She _left_?"

-!!-

Rukia pressed her hands to her face and groaned. A woman sitting across from her on the metro glanced up at her, smirked, and then looked back down. Rukia wished she could have had the guts to glare at her but she just couldn't.

She looked like a tramp.

Rukia shrunk back into her seat and desperately looked up to see how many stops she had left to go. No matter how much she had primped her hair, no matter how hard she had tried to get her makeup on again, and no matter how wrinkle-free her dress was she still looked like sex. Smelled like it too. She wriggled even further into her seat and prayed for time to speed up just a little bit more. Just so she could go home and take a nice, long, cold, shower.

Her stop was announced and she stood up on shaking legs. The woman looked at her once more and snickered softly but Rukia ignored her. She still felt shamed enough to keep her head down.

_God! This is fucking ridiculous! _Her mind screamed angrily, _I had sex! Normal, functional women have sex, even more of them have one night stands! It's not like I'm wearing a scarlet letter on my chest or anything. I just had _sex_!_

Yet that declaration still didn't stop her from keeping her head down until she got all the way inside of her apartment. The moment she closed the door to her home she turned around and leaned against it.

She slept with Ichigo Kurosaki.

Rukia exhaled and drew in a deep, refreshing, breath. She could do this. She just needed to come to terms with what just happened and then push it so far back into her mind that she'd never think about it again.

It happened. There was absolutely nothing she could do about it now. Nothing that would make the night reverse itself. Nothing to take away the stupid temper she had that had made her go over there in the first place. Nothing that could take away how his hands had felt on hers, his mouth on hers, his lips against her pussy, her hands on his cock… him inside of her, again and again and again.

Well, everything save a time machine.

Which she couldn't build.

She brought her hands to her shoulders and pulled off her dress. It shuddered to the floor and she took her underwear off as well. It fell on top of her puddle of a dress and she sprinted, naked, across her apartment and into her shower.

The cold water hit her immediately and she shuddered relentlessly in the freezing temperature. Nonetheless, she grabbed a bar of soap, her loofa, and vigorously rubbed them together. The soapy foam she received was then slathered onto her body. Rukia scrubbed and scrubbed as hard as she could. She lathered her arms until they were a bright, shiny pink. She rubbed away the flesh on her hips and stared in wonder at the bruises his fingers had left. Rukia bit her lip and tried to silence the soft moan that was fighting its way out of her throat.

After a moment of silent contemplation she turned back to the water—now it was hot—and began to scrub away at the insides of her thighs. She even went as far as lathering her own fingers and rubbing her insides. She had to erase all traces of him. Everything.

Once she was finished Rukia's skin was as pink and new as that of an infant's. She stepped out of the shower and gingerly rubbed her tingling body dry with a soft towel. She groaned when she entered her room and plopped down onto her massive bed.

She couldn't shake him.

She just couldn't get rid of him. Her new, shiny, skin made her wish that he was with her in her bed just so he could help her break it in. She could still feel him. His chest rubbing against hers. His cock pummeling hard and fast into her. His body and her body tangling together in the sheets in an endless dance of mind-numbing, orgasmic, pleasure.

She buried her face in the pillow and tried to think of other things. Cold things. Disgusting things. Toads. Snails. Toe fungus. Warts. Anything that would take her mind off of Ichigo and how well he had fucked her last night.

_Momo was right_, she moaned inwardly, _we did have hot, sweaty, scream-like-a-porn-star fun._

Rukia pressed her face further into her bed sheets and ordered her mind to shut down. She needed to sleep.

Despite her mental command she just stayed awake, thinking of sex, Ichigo, and sex with Ichigo.

-!!-

Ichigo could not believe this as happening to him. He truly could not believe it. After years of having sex with women and then leaving them to their business in the morning he was the one who was left alone in the morning.

_Why _did this have to happen to him? Why did it have to happen _now_ of all times? Now when he actually _wanted_ to wake up beside said woman?

He grabbed his towel in his hand and began to dry his body off. This was just so wrong. Not only was he angry that he actually wanted to wake up with Rukia beside him but he was also pissed that he well… that he wanted to wake up with Rukia beside him! Downright pissed, that's what he was.

He was acting like such a virgin. He really shouldn't care whether or not she stayed. It was her decision. He had just had sex with her. There was nothing more and nothing less to it than that. It wasn't like it hadn't been the best sex of his entire life…

Okay, so maybe it had been but that wasn't the point.

He didn't know what exactly it had been about Rukia that made him crave her once again. She had just been so unpretentious and so straight forward about it all. Not once had she giggled. She hadn't teased him mercilessly. She hadn't even talked. Tons of other women he had been with made jokes mid-coital, laughed incessantly whenever he accidentally tickled them, and would create cutesy names for his cock—which was _not _one of his favorite things in the world. He shuddered at the memory of one particular woman and her fetish for his 'bitsy-boo.'

No, with Rukia the only things he heard were her moans, gasps, and screams. The screams had been the best. The way she had thrust her head into his pillow, clutched her legs around his waist even harder, gripped the back of his head, and shrieked like a banshee into the soft down. Her pussy had spasmed the hardest then. He had nearly passed out at the pleasure.

Christ, that was another thing; her pussy was so tight and hot. The moment he slid inside of her for the first time, while fucking her on the kitchen counter, he couldn't believe how constricting it had been—in a good way too. He wondered at first if it had been the angle but when they were together on the bed he saw that he hadn't been mistaken at all.

_It must be because she's so tiny._ He thought, drawing in a deep breath._ That must be it._

Ichigo shook his head and tried to force images of Rukia's tight center away from his mind. He didn't want to get a boner now. Not without her in the room.

_What makes you think she'll come back?_ He thought sourly. _What really makes you think that she'd come and have sex with you again?_

He paused for a moment and walked back into his bedroom. His sheets were still tangled from the night before. He bet that if he smelled his pillow it would still be coated in her scent.

Like a film rolling on ahead, the memories of last night flooded back into his mind. Rukia's skin glistening with sweat, her hair matted to her forehead, and her back arching in release of her orgasm. His own slick body, his erect cock, and his mouth as it devoured every part of her he could reach.

He shuddered and wondered when he'd be able to have sex with her again.

-!!-

Rukia knocked on Momo's door at nine thirty in the morning on Sunday. She was dressed in a pair of running shorts and a baggy top. Her hands were twisting nervously in front of her and she swallowed, hoping that her friend would understand why—why she couldn't…

The door opened and she looked up. Her forehead wrinkled into a frown and she felt a small smirk forming on her lips.

"Morning Toshiro." She said in a high, chipper voice. She saw Momo's fiancé wince at the sound. "You and Momo have a late night?"

"Shut up," he grumbled, opening the door and shoving his body further inside the room. "Momo'll be out in a sec." He grumbled with a huge yawn, his tousled white hair flopping to the sides as he shook his head disgustedly. "I'm going back to bed."

"Sleep tight," she said, twiddling her fingers at his retreating back. She smirked when she saw him scratch the top of his head and then disappear into the bedroom. Toshiro wasn't exactly the best conversationalist in the world, even when it came to his fiancé's best friend. Hell, if Rukia hadn't Googled him ages ago she really wouldn't know much about him at all. He was quiet, considerate, contemplative, and would always think before he opened his mouth to speak. Basically he was just the opposite of Momo, which kind of made Rukia wonder how the two had gotten together in the first place. Still they loved each other very much and they were getting married.

_Wow,_ Rukia thought inwardly, a mental-note-bomb slamming into her face as she lifted her fingers to count. _The wedding's only five months away._

"Rukia? Is that you?" Her voice floated in from her bedroom.

"Yeah," she shouted, she moved to the island in the kitchen and sniffed some pastry that looked like it had been there for a week. She recoiled at the rancid scent and took a seat at the counter, forcing memories of another particular kitchen—and island—out of her mind. "I'm waiting out here."

"Be out in a minute!" Her sing-songy voice called. Rukia waited patiently while her friend giggled in the bedroom. She must have been playing with Toshiro while he was trying to sleep. Rukia smiled softly at the sound and wondered if Toshiro was so tired because of Momo.

She swallowed and immediately tried to push all encroaching thoughts out of her head. Thoughts of sex. _Sex…_ she hissed the word in her head and shuddered softly. It just rolled off the tongue, slipped through her teeth, and vibrated against her lips. She shook convulsively and felt the insides of her legs go damp.

_Ichigo's tongue worked relentlessly on her nipples and she arched her back into him. Her breath was coming out in high gasps. Both of her hands were on his head, her fingers were tangling in his hair, tugging at the roots while he suckled her._

_One of his hands slipped down between her legs and slid inside of her. She let out a sharp cry and gripped his head even harder. He slid two more of his fingers into her and began to pump slowly. She clenched her teeth as hard as she could, fighting back a mindless scream as he switched to her other breast. Her legs were numb and her body was on fire. She couldn't even think straight. All she could do was feel._

_Her orgasm was powerful. It made her entire body shake and made her pussy flow like a fucking river. Sweat beaded down her forehead and her back as she panted. His mouth released her breast and she desperately tugged his head back to hers._

_His tongue immediately plundered her soft, waiting, mouth. She kissed him back with as much ferocity as she could but she just couldn't seem to muster enough in her tired state. One of her legs rose and she hooked it around his back. She gasped into him when she felt his engorged length press against the inside of her thigh. She moaned into his mouth and reached one of her hands down to grab him. He sucked in a breath as she smoothed her fingers up and down his erection, her fingers tested the tip and found him ready._

"_Now," she whispered when he gave her a moment to breathe._

_He instantly pushed inside of her. Rukia keened and bit her nails into his shoulders. Again and again he pleasured her, bringing down one hand and teasing her clit while his mouth seared against her neck._

_They erupted into a euphoric wash of bliss. His semen filled her to the brim and continued to slide down her legs. Her pussy contracted yet again and Rukia had to wonder how many orgasms she had had tonight alone._

_He pulled himself out of her and flopped to the side. His body was wet with sweat. His hair was plastered to his forehead and his breathing was as unsteady as hers._

_She hadn't been lying still for more than three minutes before his hands were rubbing at her skin again. She turned and smiled against his shoulder._

_He was insatiable and it was exhilarating._

Her body was tingling excitedly and she gingerly shifted her ass onto her seat. Her pussy ground up against the wood and she shuddered inwardly.

"Rukia? _Rukia?_ Roo-key-ah? Rukia!"

She jerked her head up and swallowed. "Yes?" She squeaked. Her gaze swept the room and fell guiltily onto her friend.

The look on Momo's face was a cross between suspicion and skepticism. She had her hands on her hips and her eyes narrowed into squints. Her gaze raked down Rukia's relaxed form and then came back up to her face. Rukia prayed that she wasn't blushing even though she knew she probably was.

She forced a smile onto her face and found that her lips were quivering just a bit. She turned her head away and hopped off of the stool.

"What cha doing here do early?" Momo asked, rolling up and down innocently on the balls of her feet.

"I thought," Rukia muttered, keeping her head turned away, "That we'd go to the gym."

There was a short pause and then Momo took a sly step forward. "But it's Sunday." She said softly. Her voice carried a tone of purpose that Rukia equally feared and despised. She took another step forward. "We go to the park on Sundays."

"Yeah," Rukia muttered, feeling her cheeks heating even more. "I know… but I—" She felt the words clog in her throat as she tried to expel them. They stuck persistently inside and she sputtered even more.

Beside her, Momo chuckled and took one more step forward until her face was only a foot away from Rukia's.

"But…?" She prompted quietly.

Rukia opened her mouth but nothing came out. She only turned her head away a bit more and walked towards the door. "Let's just go to the gym."

"I don't know," Momo crooned after only a moments' silence. She followed Rukia out the door and closing it quietly behind her, "It's pretty nice outside; there's a cool breeze coming in from the north. I think a run in the park would be nice. I mean, it's almost October right? The leaves should be turning soon; I just love those colors, you know… red, yellow, and that beautiful, manly… _orange_."

"No!" Rukia gasped, swirling around and biting her bottom lip hard.

"Aha!" Momo squealed. She swung her entire arm out dramatically and pointed an accusing finger at Rukia, who was left visibly panicked and frantic. Momo narrowed her eyes and curled her lips into a devilish smirk the moment she saw Rukia's reaction. "I knew it! I knew it I knew it I knew it!" She leapt up and down around Rukia and began to dance in little circles. "I _knew_ it!"

"Would you stop saying that?" Rukia hissed, swiping at Momo as she danced but continually grabbing nothing but air. Damn woman was fast. Her voice was no higher than a desperate whisper and she got an inkling that Momo noticed. Her best friend was practically _glowing_ in triumph.

"You _slept_ with him, didn't you?" She shouted accusingly, even though there was a tint of happiness tinged inside of her tone. "_Didn't_ you? Ha! Don't even bother answering; I can see the scarlet letter well enough from over here."

Rukia clamped her jaw shut and crossed her arms across her chest. She stubbornly turned her head away and glared at the tasteful lamps hanging from the walls.

She could see Momo from the corner of her eyes and immediately felt her insides turning into mush. Momo's eyes were wide, her mouth was open, her arms were hanging down by her sides, and her throat was making this strange gargling sound.

"You… did…" she whispered, her voice more in awe than anything else. She blinked a few times and shook her head, as if in disbelief, "You… oh my… sex… Ichigo… you…" She turned to Rukia and scoffed, "You finally had sex. Thank you Jesus Christ…" she turned her head to Rukia and raised one eyebrow. "What was it like?"

Rukia's head whipped around to her friend and she let out a sound of disbelief. "Did you honestly just ask me that?"

Momo just shrugged. "Hon, I got a look at his hands, they were pretty big, which kind of means that… well, his dicks gotta be huge."

"Momo!"

She looked at her innocently enough. "What? At least now you can tell me if it's true." She took one step forward and grinned, "Is it?"

The blush on Rukia's face said it all.

"How many times?" She demanded.

"Wha—"

"He looks like he can go more than one round," Momo interrupted, "So how many?"

Rukia's face felt like an inferno. She sucked in a breath and felt her throat stick with unintelligible words. Before she could even think rationally she felt a number bubbling up in her throat. It exploded without any provocation.

"Four," she squeaked.

Silence. Wide eyes. Flared nostrils. Open mouth. Quivering jaw.

"F…f-four t-times?" She sputtered.

"Four times," Rukia whispered in affirmation, shuddering at the images that flashed through her mind.

"His stamina?" Momo whispered.

"He could have gone a couple more rounds." Rukia whispered as she slumped against the far wall. "But my god… if he had…" she swallowed nervously, "I swear to God Momo, it's been nearly two days since and I'm still throbbing down… there."

"How many times did you come?" She asked in awe.

Rukia shook her head and pressed a cooling hand to her hot forehead. "I lost count after number five."

"A-After fi-_five_?"

She nodded solemnly. "He's good, Momo. He's so good. Probably the best I've ever had." She took in a deep breath and slid down the wall to sit on the floor. Momo came next to her and took a seat on the floor as well. Rukia stared off into the glowing hall lights. For the first time in a very long time she was the one who got to tell Momo all of the details of _her_ sex life.

Not to mention she got to watch the spasms of jealousy that floated across her best friend's face. That was a reward in itself.

"The first time he propped me up on the counter and…" her cheeks reddened but she cleared her throat and continued. "He was cooking—vegetables, pasta, and stuff like that. He just stopped doing that, put me on the counter, and put his face between my legs."

"Oh my God." Momo gasped, her hands flying to her mouth.

"Yeah," Rukia muttered. "Then I called the restaurant, canceled with Aramaki, and we went into the bedroom."

"Where you did it three… more… times." Momo made sure to enunciate each word of her sentence until it was nearly impossible to understand her.

"We did it missionary, doggie, and cowboy." Rukia whispered. "I just kept on coming and coming and… coming." The last word was strangled badly.

Momo simply looked at her, her mouth open, completely speechless.

"It felt so good." She whispered, bringing her knees up to her chest. "I mean, honestly, I've never had sex like that."

Momo only nodded her head and scooted a bit closer to Rukia. "So what did you two do… you know, in the morning?"

Rukia's gaze slid over to hers and she blinked at what she saw. Momo just looked so eager and so ready for any information that Rukia could give. Her charcoal eyes were open wide and she was hungrily absorbing every word that came from Rukia's lips. She just sighed heavily and turned her head away.

"Rukia…" Momo whispered after a moment, her voice becoming harder in tone and in wording, "You _did_ have morning-after sex, right?" Her eyes narrowed in expectation, "Didn't you?"

Rukia sighed and rested her head against the back of the wall. "I left."

"You left."

"I left." She confirmed, guilt creeping into her tone.

"You _left_?"

"That's what I said," Rukia snapped, closing her eyes tightly.

Her friend moaned and placed her head on the wall as well. "Rukia…" she sighed, "Why? Why in the world would you do that?"

"Can you imagine," Rukia began, choosing her words with care and she tightened her tone for what she was about to say, "How complicated our lives are going to get, Momo? I just _slept_ with my coworker, that's a huge no-no when it comes to basic business practices. Now I'm going to have to see him everyday knowing that he's seen me naked, knowing that he's had his face where it shouldn't have been, and knowing that he's made me come more times than any other man… ever."

"Rukia," Momo said in a tone just as severe, "It'll be awkward, sure, but don't forget that you made it all the more awkward." She nudged Rukia in the side and quirked her mouth upwards a bit, "You left, Rukia, you left right after sex. A woman only does that when she feels bad about actually having sex—"

"Which I do!"

"But you don't because you 'really' liked it, remember Rukia?" She nudged her friend's shoulder again and sighed. "You should have stayed."

Rukia clenched her jaw. "I didn't want to."

"You panicked," Momo shrugged, "I guess it's normal. I mean, you haven't had sex in a long time, maybe it was just a weird reflex."

"It wasn't a reflex." Rukia muttered sourly. "I just couldn't take it."

"You're going to have to take it sooner or later," Momo reminded her, "You're going to see him tomorrow at work."

"Not if I call in sick."

The pointed stare sent her way made Rukia feel like a three year old. She huddled even further against the wall and sighed heavily. "What do I say when I see him?" She whispered.

Momo shrugged, "How should I know?"

"You've done this more times than I have," Rukia bit back scathingly.

Silence hung in the air between them and after a moment Rukia realized what she had just said. Immediately, she wished she could chop off her own tongue. She turned to Momo and instantly put her hand on top of her friend's knee. "Oh Momo," she whispered, leaning in just a bit and taking in a shuddering breath. "I'm so sorry… I didn't—I didn't mean it that… way."

Momo was stiff beside her. Her head was inclined to the ground and her jaw was clenched shut.

Rukia squeezed her friend's knee and shook it, striving to get her to look at her. Rukia felt like shoving her head onto a hot stove. She couldn't believe she just said that. _That_ of all things! How callously stupid she had been. She was so wrapped up in her own awkward misery that she didn't even bother to rein in her own tongue when it came to her best friend.

She knew of Momo's roller-coaster ride of a love life. She hadn't really been very lucky with men until she met Toshiro. She had gone out with scum-bags, control freaks, jerks, abusers, and even a couple drug addicts before she had finally called it quits. Momo had had more experience with bad boyfriends and one night stands than anyone else Rukia knew. She had only really pulled herself out of her slump when she met her fiancé.

Toshiro was the first nice guy that Momo had dated in a very long time. She hadn't even really wanted to go out with him at first either. She had been so panicked that maybe he'd be like the others. That maybe he wouldn't want her after seeing how she had been so _damaged_ by everyone else. It was only through dogged determination that Toshiro finally got her to agree to a date.

Momo had been so lucky to find Toshiro. He was like finding an oasis in a desert.

Rukia bit her lip and shook her friend's knee once again. Just because Momo was in a stable relationship now didn't mean that Rukia had to taunt her about her less-than-wonderful past. She shouldn't have brought it up. It was just downright cruel.

"I'm sorry Momo, I really didn't mean to say that." She whispered apologetically.

"Yeah you did," Momo muttered before she turned and gave a limp smile to Rukia. "But it's okay. The past is the past; I'm with Toshiro now, it's all behind me."

"I didn't mean—"

"Yeah you did," she muttered. She smiled weakly at Rukia and then hopped nimbly to her feet. "But it's alright, really."

Rukia looked up at her and frowned guiltily. She felt like complete crap. Momo giggled lamely and held out her hand. "Come on Rukia, let's go to the gym. Just forget about it. You're allowed a freebie every now and then."

"I really am sorry." Rukia muttered, grasping her friend's hand and pulling herself up.

"Don't worry about it," Momo laughed again; her mood was quickly returning to the way it normally was. "I told you, no harm no foul. Let's go grab up some treadmills."

"Are you sure?" Rukia murmured, still skeptical about her overly-rude comment.

"Positive," she giggled, hopping from one foot to the other, "We need to stop talking about me and start talking about how you're going to face Mr. Kurosaki tomorrow." She sang his voice in a high falsetto that made Rukia cringe.

Rukia shook off the feelings of horrid guilt and began walking down the hallway with Momo. Her mind reverted to what she had said and she shuddered.

_Tomorrow_.

It just sounded so ominous.

**(A/N: Shields self from angry daggers and begins to sob**

**I AM SO SORRY I HAVEN'T UPDATED!! I know everyone is used to getting a chapter a week but lately I've barely had any time to breathe, let alone update. I haven't even written anything for more than a month! Urg. Thank god for cushion chapters!**

**Anyway, please don't be too mad at me and please**

**LEAVE REVIEWS!)**


	23. Chapter 22

**Disclaimer: I do not own Bleach or any Bleach affiliations.**

_**Odalisque**_

**Chapter 22**

**Uh... warning.**

"Do you want me to come up with you?"

Rukia swallowed as she and her friend stood outside of Seiretei Incorporated. Her case was slung over her shoulder and her fingers clutched at it like it was a lifeline. With her other hand she smoothed out the nonexistent wrinkles from her skirt and shirt and smoothed down her impeccable ponytail. She nervously patted her hip and cringed when she thought of what she might encounter inside.

She turned her head to Momo and saw her friend's sweet smiling face pointed in her direction. Rukia weakly tilted one edge of her mouth up and nodded once. "Maybe just to the elevator." She made sure that the statement had an upward inflection at the end, just to make sure her friend caught the slight note of desperation in her tone.

Momo only smiled and nodded. "Let's go in."

Rukia had to resist the urge to hold Momo's hand as she walked inside. Her eyes immediately scanned the room for any sight of an orange head of hair and—to her everlasting relief—there was none. Exhaling slowly, she bolstered enough confidence to get herself out of the vicinity of the entrance doors. She had to get to a place where there were no exits. She and Momo kept walking forward. Momo was chatting happily beside her about something trivial but right now it was almost comforting to hear.

They strode up to the lobby and were about to get onto the elevator when Rukia stopped in her tracks and gaped at the man a little ways away from her.

"Mr. Aizen?" She said in surprise. She wheeled in her spot and turned towards the man now talking happily with the floor receptionist.

His head lifted when he heard his name. She stood silently as his eyes roamed around the room before finally settling on Rukia.

Then they turned to Momo.

Mr. Aizen immediately stood up straighter. The counter he had previously been leaning against was left empty as he quickly strode over to where the two women were standing. It took him a mere five strides to reach the two of them. He stopped only a foot away from the two women and Rukia took an instant step back, her 'personal bubble' alarms ringing. Momo, however, simply smiled and leaned her head back so she could grin at Rukia's boss.

"Hello Rukia," Mr. Aizen said, his eyes leaving Momo for a moment in order to flicker over to his associate.

"Hello Mr. Aizen," Rukia said again, watching his gaze travel back to her smiling friend with a skeptic glare. "How are you today?"

"The day is getting better by the second," he said, chuckling lightly, "And, may I ask, who is this charming young lady?" His voice dropped a few octaves and he reached out his hand.

Rukia watched in amazement as Mr. Aizen picked up Momo's right hand, brought it to his lips, and kissed her knuckles.

"Mr. Aizen," Rukia blurted, slightly horrified at the liberties he was taking with her friend. She looked over at Momo and almost gaped at what she was seeing.

Her friend, her best friend, her best _engaged_ friend, was blushing like a little school girl. Her eyelashes were batting seamlessly against her cheek bones. Her cheeks were tinted an apple red. Even her lips were pursed into a cute little smile.

What the fuck was going on? Was Momo _flirting_ with Rukia's boss? Was Rukia's boss flirting _back_?

"Momo Hinamori," she giggled, taking the hand Mr. Aizen had just kissed and bringing it up to her chest, splaying it against her heart. "Soon to be Momo Hitsugaya, of course." She rolled her eyes playfully and giggled again.

It was only then that Rukia exhaled. She knew that Momo absolutely adored the fact that she was engaged to Toshiro. She was always telling people that she would soon be Momo Hitsugaya. So even though she was using _all_ of her classic "flirting" poses she had still informed Rukia's boss that she was, indeed, engaged.

_Thank God,_ Rukia thought headily. For a moment she had thought that Momo was actually _accepting _Mr. Aizen's advances, and they sure as hell were advances. If he had ever tried to kiss her own hand Rukia would have slapped the living daylights out of the man. No one kissed her whom she didn't want to kiss her.

A mental image of Ichigo tongue-fucking her mouth in the elevator came into her brain but she pushed it away.

_Maybe Momo is just flirting because she has only a few more months left of being a single woman. Maybe it's kind of a last-ditch attempt at being an unattached woman._ She thought, breathing in and out a bit softer. Lots of women did that. Most of the time, the thought of sleeping with the same man for the rest of their lives scared many young women into having wild flings right before they said 'I do.' Momo was probably no different. She was probably just stretching her last 'single' legs before she took the plunge with Toshiro.

"I'm Sosuke Aizen," he said, leaning in just a bit more as Rukia tuned back into the conversation. Momo still didn't move even though Rukia took another step back. Mr. Aizen was only about six inches away from her friend and she was still smiling up at him. "I own the place."

"I work for Miss Kuchiki," Momo informed him, giggling lightly. "Over at Gotei Corp. mostly but I come here for lunch."

_Too much information Momo,_ Rukia warned her silently, _too much. Don't start telling him everything._

"How thoughtful," he grinned down at her and after a moment his thick glasses began to slip down his boyishly sweet face. Someone called his name from across the lobby and he paused—still staring down at Momo—before looking up. His glasses slipped even further down his nose before he answered the person. "Be right over," he called. He turned back to Momo, smiled once more, pushed his glasses up with his finger, and said, "I hope I'll see you again… soon."

"Sure," Momo simpered, her eyes blinking as though she had something stuck inside of them.

"Bye then," he nodded his head once and then began walking towards the man who had called to him. After a moment of conversing with another person in a suit he looked back to the two of them, smiled apologetically, and walked away.

Rukia stood rigidly in her spot while Momo breathed just a little faster beside her. Rukia had to fight the urge not to let her jaw drop to the floor. She had just been in the presence of her boss for at least three minutes yet he had only said two words to her. _Hello Rukia_… and that was it. All the other comments had been directed towards Momo… particularly the one about his day getting better.

Rukia's brow furrowed enough to match the grooves in the Grand Canyon. Mr. Aizen had just acted like an infatuated teenager. But that couldn't be possible. Momo was engaged, she had told him so herself, yet he still grinned at her like a blushing virgin about to get his first kiss. Rukia glanced at Momo and eyed her skeptically. She was acting even weirder. Her apple cheeks were even redder. Her eyes were sparkling. Her lips were curled into a smile.

"Momo," Rukia said, elongating her name to draw her attention.

Her friend was just staring off into the distance where Mr. Aizen had disappeared. She sighed softly before she turned her eyes back to Rukia and raised one eyebrow. "Yes?"

"Can we come out of la-la land please?" Rukia demanded. "Shut your mouth, you're engaged, for Christ's sake, stop oogling my boss."

Momo didn't even have enough dignity to be affronted by Rukia's statement, "I wasn't oogling him. I was merely astounded by how nice he was being to me."

Rukia scoffed and rolled her eyes, "Sure, that's why you were batting your eyelashes, blushing, and giggling like mad."

The gasp that came from Momo basically sucked in all the air around them. "I was _not_!" She crossed her arms and threw her nose up into the air. "I am engaged to be married to a wonderful man and I know for a fact that I would never even as much as _look_ at another one."

"Sure," Rukia muttered disbelievingly, she strode over to the elevator and Momo followed like a puppy, "But I guess its okay that you were flirting. I mean, you were probably just reveling in your last few months of being single."

"I was _not_ flirting with him." Momo muttered, her cheeks flushing just a bit. She swallowed convulsively and shook her head. "I wasn't. I really wasn't." She looked over at Rukia and widened her eyes in innocent horror. "I wasn't… was I?"

"Lots of women do it," Rukia reasoned immediately, she noticed the encroaching fear coming into her friend's gaze and fought quickly to swell it. She knew that if Momo started panicking about something as trivial as this she would be worrying about it for the next several days—meaning, of course, that she would vent to Rukia about it nonstop until she ceased feeling guilty. She added quickly, "They see their single days disappearing and they start feeling a certain kind of dread. Then, of course, they start looking at other single men to see if they could be the reason to back out of their impending weddings."

Now Momo's mouth dropped. "_What_?!" She shrieked. Both of her hands flew up to her mouth and she began—for some reason—to stomp from foot to foot. "Ohmigawd!" She clutched out to desperately grab the cloth on Rukia's arm. "Rukia… am I… am I questioning my _engagement_? To _Toshiro_? _Am_ I?"

"Did you think romantic thoughts when you looked at Mr. Aizen?" Rukia demanded, hissing it so no one else would hear them.

"Of course not! I just thought he was nice!" She squirmed like she had an upset stomach and bit her bottom lip until tiny spots of red bloomed underneath of them. "I thought it was kind of strange, you know, him being a big business guy and all and still coming over to talk to us. I mean, after all, we're pretty low on the corporate food chain. He seemed like a nice, normal, guy."

Rukia scowled at the food chain comment. Momo might be plankton with her job but Rukia knew that she was some kind of ferocious carnivore. She pushed the thought out of her head and sighed.

"Then that's okay." Rukia said, smiling softly as the elevator dinged. She was actually looking forward to going up to the office and getting away from more of Momo's impending drama. She knew that her friend would be thinking about this particular conversation for the rest of the day and she really didn't want to be there when Momo instigated even more internal panic.

She smiled bravely at Momo, who just seemed to notice that the elevator had arrived, and stepped inside. She didn't say anything while the doors slid shut. She heard Momo wish her well but she didn't respond. She just needed to breathe.

The elevator went up slowly and Rukia listened to the elevator music while she went. She tried to think about something to say to him… something that might alleviate the awkwardness between them… but she couldn't think of anything. Rukia sighed and pressed her hand onto her eyes.

_You don't need to plan a speech,_ she told herself after a moment, _all you need to do is go in there and _talk_ to him. Don't do anything else. Don't accuse him, don't scream at him, and don't say he was bad in bed. That would by lying. Lying is bad._

The machine stopped and she stepped out of it in one decisive move. She was there early, but not too early—she had to make sure that Momo was awake so they could walk in together—and saw a few people she recognized. They nodded at her and smiled at her as she walked in. She nodded in return but didn't smile. She felt their stares on her back as she passed and wondered whether or not she really did have some sort of scarlet letter pasted on her chest.

She swallowed heavily as she made her way towards her office. The door was already partially open and she could hear movement inside. She felt her molars grinding together when she thought of how early he must have gotten up just to get here before her.

_Just to confront me_, she grumbled inwardly.

Gritting her teeth together, Rukia pulled her attaché case further up on her shoulder and squeezed it against her body. She drew in a shuddering breath and pushed the door open even more.

He was sitting at his desk, writing something down on a piece of paper, and humming a soft tune. She couldn't see his eyes; they were obscured by his fiery bangs. She felt her throat compulsively swallow once again but she stopped before she could. The door hit the opposite wall and started to bounce back. He heard it and stiffened in his seat even though he didn't raise his head.

She stepped inside and closed the door behind her. For once she was looking straight at him and he was avoiding her. She took a few steps inside and slowly wandered over to her desk. She set her things on her desk and, after one more moment of staring at the top of Ichigo's head, she sat down.

Her ass connected with the cushiness of her chair and she sighed softly. _Okay,_ she thought, _this isn't as bad as I thought it would be_.

"I missed you Sunday morning," he said after only a moment of silence.

Rukia remained rigid in her chair and didn't turn her head to look at him. What the hell were they doing? Playing eye tag? She squished her lids shut and instantly curled her hands into fists in her lap. She clenched her teeth together and sucked in a small breath. A moment later she opened her eyes only to stare at her blank computer screen. "Um… yeah, I had to…"

_You had to… you had to what? Hm? What in the world are you going to tell him? You had an appointment at four in the morning? You had to meet Momo? You had a surprise meeting? You needed to finish a file? What the fuck didn't you have to do?!_

"…Go." She finished, feeling as lame as a person who had been run over by a bulldozer.

He finally looked up and turned his head towards her. His eyes were fixated on her face and she was staring distractedly at her computer.

"You had to… _go_."

"I had to go." She muttered in affirmation.

"At four in the morning." It was a statement, not a question.

"Yes. I had to leave."

"Any particular reason why?"

"None that you need to know about."

Ichigo scoffed and it was the first sound that she heard this morning that actually should have come from his mouth. Of fuck, where was the condescension, the hatred, the bigotry, and the snide comments that she was used to? She could have defended herself against accusations like those. She really could have. She didn't want to be having a semi-serious conversation with Ichigo about the amazing sex they had had two nights ago. Not when it could mean that she'd have to explain… well, everything.

"None that I need to know about?" He asked again, his voice sterner than it had been a moment ago; she turned her head to look at him and narrowed her eyes. "None that I need… Rukia, I fucked you all night and then you up and leave and I don't need to know about it?" He leaned back in his chair and folded his arms across his chest. "Maybe I don't _need_ to know but I'd sure as hell _like_ to know."

"Acting a little possessive, are we?" She demanded, clenching her fingers on the sides of her desk. "I thought you did this sort of thing often?"

"Oh no," he grunted, rising from his chair and taking a few quick steps over to her desk. Rukia's body stiffened visibly and she immediately pushed her chair as far away from him as she possibly could. "You're not getting off on that, Rukia; you can't just make me mad and think we're done with this. Contrary to what you might think, I actually can control my temper when I so choose, and right now I'm choosing." He took more steps in her direction and she scooted away again. "I'd like to know why you just up and left."

"Surprised a woman actually did it to you?" Rukia demanded hotly. "I guess it only works one way then. You have sex and then you leave a woman to her own devices. Well what if I didn't want to play it that way? What if I wanted to be the one who left you to _your_ devices? What if I wanted to be the one who left you in a state of confusion and… and _anger_? Huh? Ever think about _that_?" She stood out of her chair and stomped over to him. She brought one finger out and began prodding him hard in the chest. "You're not the only one who can pull off a successful one night stand, mister, _I_ happen to be just as good."

"So you do this all the time too, do you?" He hissed, swiping at her finger and trying to catch it.

"Of course not," she shot back, jerking her hand away, "But that doesn't mean I don't know _how_."

"Oh, I see," he scoffed, "You just decide, after a night of fantastic sex, that you want to leave. Sorry Rukia. I don't buy it."

She glared at him and then shoved her head to the side. "I won't disagree Kurosaki, but I need to make my point clear."

"So make it." He challenged hotly, taking another step forward.

"We've slept together," she ground out, taking care to keep his encroaching proximity in the front of her mind. "Do you realize how that compromises our business relationship? Do you realize how hard it's going to be to look at you and not see you naked? Do you even get that I should have never come over to your house in the first place?"

"You're basically saying that just because the fact that we slept together is making you _slightly _uncomfortable we should never see each other again? Is that it?" He demanded.

"Yes!" She cried, throwing her hands into the air dramatically, "At least… not socially. We'll still have to see each other at work but—but—we can never have sex together again."

His jaw dropped several inches. He looked like a child who had just been informed that Christmas was not coming this year. It would have been comical had it not been for the seriousness of the conversation.

"Are you fucking _kidding_ me?"

Rukia's face immediately colored and she forced herself to look away from his ridiculously angry and amusing expression. Her fists tightened at her sides and she said, "I'm not. I can assure you."

He was silent but she still didn't look in his direction. She didn't want to see his face. His outrageous ugly… yet _so_ handsome… face…

"No offense Rukia," he said in a smoky, husky voice that made a shiver run down her spine, "But I really don't think this plan of yours is going to work."

She finally turned to him and lifted her chin stubbornly. "We'll see."

-!!-

Monday afternoon had rolled on at an unusually slow pace today. Orihime had jiggled her foot up and down at her desk practically all day. She had just wanted to go home. She wanted to see if her mystery man had left another message.

As she raced up the steps to her apartment—pointedly ignoring the sharp pain in her feet—she thought back to how today had gone.

She had been watching Mr. Kurosaki lately with renewed interest. Now that her suspicions were correct about him having some sort of tryst with that whore Kuchiki she wanted to watch and see how he reacted whenever she was near.

Orihime had seen the two of them walk out of their office on the way to their lunch breaks and they both completely ignored one another. She had seen the stiffness in their backs and knew instantly that they were furious with each other. This, for obvious reasons, made her happier than the day she had actually kissed Mr. Kurosaki at the Christmas Party.

Both of them, throughout the entire day, had looked so angry with one another. When she came in to give Mr. Kurosaki a new file she had seen the looks he sent towards his partner. She had sent them right back. It was as if they were engaged in an enraged staring contest that neither one of them wanted to break.

Orihime had nearly laughed out loud when she saw Miss Kuchiki—at some point in the day—bare her teeth at Mr. Kurosaki and tell him to 'shove the fuck off.' She had been trying to be discrete about the comment but it hadn't worked. The whole hall had heard her and turned to stare at the pair. She walked back into her office with her cheeks a furious pink. Mr. Kurosaki had followed with his scowl even deeper than normal. Orihime had nearly swooned at the sight of that scowl. It had made her even more impatient for five o'clock.

Returning to her current task Orihime shoved her key into her door and clicked the lock. She pushed her elbow into the oak and it pounded open without another moment's hesitation. She dashed inside and shut the door as fast as she could.

Her chest was heaving up and down as she stared down at the floor. Her hungry eyes immediately latched onto the manila envelope waiting patiently on the floor. A sharp cry of joy echoed around her apartment as she lunged for the thing. Her knees connected solidly with the ground and she flinched in pain but her fingers were busily ripping off the protective tape around the envelope.

A single note was inside and Orihime quickly brought it out. She sat down on the ground and read the letter as quickly and as thoroughly as possible. This time it wasn't written out in cut-out letters from magazines. This time, it was spotlessly typed and printed on a single sheet of white computer paper.

_Orihime Inoue,_

_From your rather fastidious reply I know that you are serious in your desire to have Ichigo Kurosaki for yourself._

_As I said before, I can help you. However, you must follow every single one of my instructions. If you should begin to dissent or question any direction I have given you I will know and you will be punished for it accordingly._

_Below is a number, call it; employ this man's services upon Mr. Kurosaki and Miss Kuchiki._

_It is October now. In exactly three months time I will ask you to collect the fruit of this man's labors. You will then post them in this same envelope outside of your door. I will be waiting._

_If you follow these directions you will be richly rewarded._

_I know you won't disappoint me._

Orihime had the phone in her hand the moment the last sentence rushed through her mind. She quickly looked over the number and dialed. It rang only twice before someone on the other end of the line picked up.

"Schiffer Private Investigating, Ulquiorra Schiffer speaking, how may I assist you?"

Orihime had to stifle a gasp as the man introduced himself. _A private investigator?_ She mused inwardly. Part of her insides were cringing while she other part was singing in joy. She swallowed and reminded herself that the note told her to follow the directions _exactly._ She couldn't cut corners here.

"Hello?" The voice said.

Orihime shivered at the sound. It was lifeless, dead, and void of any sort of emotion. She cleared her throat and squeaked. "Yes? Hello?"

"May I help you?"

"Yes," she answered quickly, "My name is—"

"I don't need to know your name," Mr. Schiffer told her smoothly, "My clients tell me what they want and provide me with only a credit card number. That's all I care about. You need to tell me nothing else."

"Then how will I get my product?" Orihime sighed in a squeak.

"I have my ways."

"Oh," she said, a nervous giggle appearing in her throat. "Alright…"

"Their names?" He asked.

"Ever the businessman," Orihime laughed lightly, her tone slightly nervous, as she heard the emotionless man clear his throat on the other end. She swallowed hard and thought of her reward… her and Mr. Kurosaki, together, his adoring face on hers, his hands on her body, and his mouth whispering her name…

"_Mrs. Orihime Kurosaki…"_

She spoke without hesitation. "Their names are Ichigo Kurosaki and Rukia Kuchiki. Find out what they do together."

"Fine."

The phone clicked shut and it took Orihime around an extra thirty seconds to actually pull it away from her ear. She placed it down on the cradle and sighed.

She didn't even contemplate the morality of her actions before she shrugged, clapped her hands together, and moved into the kitchen. She hummed a small song while she took out her pots and pans.

"Mr. Schiffer," she giggled as she searched through her pantry, "I hope you can do you job because that way…" she trailed off before she finished in a sing-songy tone, "Mr. Kur-o-sa-ki will be m-i-ne!"

She laughed and kept on making dinner.

-!!-

"Good afternoon Brother," Rukia said softly, she knocked once on the hospital door before entering with a small smile. She took a few more steps inside and made sure to keep her face straight even though Byakuya looked like death. Granted, he was sitting up a bit, he was sipping from a small glass of water, and he looked much improved over how he had been after he had been shot. Still, all of those factors didn't change the fact that his face was a pale green, that his eyes were hollow, and that is once proud chin drooped a bit into his chest.

Rukia saw Byakuya's eyes slide over to hers and then look away. Her stomach fell at bit but she was used to it. Her brother couldn't look at her for very long because she resembled his late wife just a bit too much. Okay, almost exactly. She knew she shouldn't hold it against him but… well, at least he could show some type of remorse when he did it.

Not to mention that she was the only one—besides his secretary—who had actually come to visit him in his stint in this place. Granted, thousands of business partners sent cards and flowers and other such things, but no one had actually cared enough to visit except for her.

Besides, if she was going to spend her Friday night with him in his hospital room, barely conversing, and simply sitting in uncomfortable silence, the least he could do was look at her. She wasn't really getting anything out of this other than a bad mood. A mood which was already ruined by a week of silent and furious sexual tension between her and Ichigo Kurosaki. She snarled when she thought about it. They had barely spoken all week and every single time she looked at the man she couldn't help but see him naked. She was also quite sure that he saw the same thing when he looked at her.

It didn't help either that every time they looked at one another a replay of the night they spent together went running through their heads. Panting mouth, arching bodies, thrusting hips, and swallowed screams were never far from her consciousness—or his—whenever they were near each other. Several times she had even seen him look up at her, shiver in his desk, and excuse himself to go to the bathroom—a fact that he made sure she knew while he was on his way out. When he came back ten minutes later he sported a flushed face and a dirty look in his eyes. Rukia just refused to look at him.

She pulled herself back to her spot in the hospital and walked further into the room. She sat down in the empty seat beside her brothers' bed and crossed her legs in a lady-like fashion. She screwed a smile onto her face and began with the questions she had prepared.

"Brother, how are you feeling?" She asked politely.

"Much better." He responded flatly.

"Have the doctors put you on any new medications?" Still polite.

"They've taken me off a few." Still just as flat.

"That's very good." Oh the joy that was inside of her voice. "Are they making sure that you're comfortable?"

"Yes."

_Good God this is worse than getting a brain tumor removed without anesthesia._

"You're not working are you?" She asked after noticing the folders and files on his bedside table. She made her voice sound a bit dubious, hopefully making it seem like she was worried about him more than she actually was. She knew that absolutely nothing would ever stop Byakuya Kuchiki from doing what he wanted to do.

"Of course I am. The company needs to keep working so I must keep working." His tone was clipped and strong, the Byakuya of old.

"You should still rest; you wouldn't want to get sicker before you become better." Rukia said softly, this time the concern in her voice was real.

"I will be perfectly fine." Byakuya said quietly. He took the glass of water away from his lips and placed it on the top of his thigh. There was a small silence between them before he turned his head completely away from her and said, "You're doing well at work, I presume?"

The gerbils working in Rukia's mind immediately began building up a barrier. Their little feet worked as hard as they could to produce an appropriate wall of defense against anything her brother had to say.

"Yes, Brother, I am doing very well."

"You must always be sure to check and double check your work. Kuchiki's do not leave anything to fault." He said in a stern voice.

"I understand."

"You must not allow yourself to become sidetracked by anything," he said curtly, "That has always been one of your problems. You become distracted easily."

"I do, Brother." Rukia agreed quietly even though she knew it wasn't true.

"Those who work with me say that you have developed an aggressive relationship with your coworker, Ichigo Kurosaki." He intoned pointedly.

_Aggressive wouldn't even be the half of it._ Rukia thought sourly, fighting a shiver running through her body.

She cleared her throat and continued. "We seem disagree on several trivial matters but they never interfere with the work we do in the office."

"I see." Byakuya murmured softly, he hadn't moved a muscle since he first began speaking to her. His rigid posture, while it might have intimidated some, only served to irritate Rukia. The least the guy could do was look a little softened up. He was in a hospital for Christ's sake. He had been fucking shot… twice! If anyone deserved to slouch a little right now it was him.

"You must never let down your guard," he said, his voice cold as ice and hard as steel. "Whether or not you disagree with this man on trivial things is not my concern. What is my concern is the way you carry yourself and the Kuchiki name in matters of business and in matters of life. Should you offend the Kuchiki family by acting carelessly with any business partner it could mar our respectability in places around the world."

Rukia's cheeks were blazing hot and for once she was glad that her brother wasn't looking at her. If only he knew how carelessly inappropriately she had acted with Ichigo Kurosaki last week…

"I understand, Brother."

"There is also another matter which I'd like to discuss." He said, he shifted in his bed slightly and Rukia thought she saw a flash of pain cross his features. She must have been imagining it though. Her brother didn't show weakness. That ability hadn't been programmed into him.

Rukia swallowed and immediately called for the gerbils to start building a higher wall. Her brother never _announced_ anything that he wanted to discuss with her. He just said it. For him to actually announce it did not bode well for Rukia.

"This experience has left me to know my own limitations," Byakuya said in a flat tone, "I will not live forever."

_Yes you will,_ Rukia thought with an inward groan.

"Knowing such," he continued, "I would like to begin to order my affairs."

Rukia raised an eyebrow at this, "You mean… make a will?"

"In a way." He said stonily, "However, in order for it to be complete I should need to include you and any offspring you might produce."

Rukia had to fight to keep her jaw in place. "E-Excuse me?"

"Do not stutter," he commanded quietly, "It is ever so rude."

"I'm sorry Brother," Rukia said, the alarm signals in her brain screaming for her to run from the room, "But I did not understand what you meant by… offspring."

"Children," Byakuya said as though she were stupid, "I meant children. Should I assume that you wish for them to be included in my will?"

"Brother," she said, making sure she spoke as slowly as she could just in case those drugs had unhinged him a bit, "I do not _have_ any children."

Byakuya sighed at how tiresome she was being. "I am aware of that. However, you are almost thirty years old. Should the Kuchiki family not expect for you to have a child by that age?"

It was a rhetorical question but Rukia didn't speak. She couldn't. He couldn't really be serious, could he? He expected her—in the next four years—to find the perfect man, get married, settle down, and pop out a couple of kids? Was he nuts?

"That being said," he sighed, setting the cup of water on the table beside him, "I believe it is time for you to choose a husband."

Rukia had to fight to keep her brain from imploding.

"With all due respect," Rukia blurted out before she could bite her tongue and shove the comment back down in her throat. She wasn't sure that her brain was working properly right now, because if it was, well, she definitely wouldn't have said anything to ever contradict her brother. She absolutely wouldn't be saying this.

But then again, who the hell was he to dictate who she married? Or when she had kids, for that matter, or if she wanted them included in his damn will? It was her decision whether or not she even wanted to have kids! Byakuya and Hisana never had any—but that was more because of Hisana's health more than anything else. Still, she made more than enough money to produce an entire baseball team and get them comfortably through life.

Not to mention she was not _almost thirty_. Sure she was over the twenty five mark but she was still only twenty six. She had four more years before she was thirty. Lots of women in her position waited until they were at least thirty five to have kids. Some even forty!

"Byakuya," she continued, her mind spasmed in glee at the sound of his first name coming fearlessly from her lips. She couldn't actually believe that she had used his first name and had not been chastised for it. Oh well, if she was going to be disowned then she might as well go all-out and do it right.

"It is not up to you to dictate whom I marry or when I have children. You can create your will should you feel the need and if I ever feel the desire to reproduce you may amend it then but I will not have you telling me whom I must marry or when I must have a child." Rukia stopped and drew in deep breath.

Her brother didn't even move. Silence enveloped the two once again and Rukia sat there awkwardly, ready and waiting for the feel of an ax at the back of her head.

The silence stretched on for five whole minutes before her brother actually decided to speak.

"Who."

Rukia lifted her head and frowned, "I… beg your pardon?"

"Who you marry, not whom."

Rukia blinked once before nodding and staring pointedly at the floor.

-!!-

Ichigo was currently watching some terrible monster decapitate several unsuspecting teenagers. He sighed in boredom and wondered if he should go out tonight. After all, it was a Friday, he was free, and it had been over a week since he had had sex. Or, _real_ sex, at least. Jacking off while thinking of that bitch wasn't exactly sex.

His eyes narrowed angrily and he slowly sipped the glass of water he had beside him. She had been even worse this week than she normally was. She had ignored him for five straight days, she barely spoke to him, and whenever she actually _did _speak to him it was in short, clipped, sentences. They were orders mostly; _take this file, organize this, get away from me bastard_, etc. Nothing to suggest that she was ever going to renege on her vow to stay away from him.

Ichigo turned to the clock and glowered. It was already nine at night. Nine at night on a Friday and he was sitting at home watching some shitty movie when he should be out doing whatever the hell he wanted to do.

He groaned and flipped the television off. He might as well just go to bed. He growled when he realized how pathetic his life had become. Bed a nine o'clock and obsessing about a woman he didn't even like…

But a woman who had the tightest pussy he had ever felt in his entire life.

He stood and stretched his muscles before going towards the kitchen to shut off the lights. He had almost made it to his bedroom when a light tapping sound caught his attention.

He stopped, turned, and wandered over to the living room once again. The tapping came again, this time it was much more insistent. It was also coming from the door. He walked towards it and began undoing the locks. Once all of them were off and the door was shoved out of the way he turned to the person standing in the doorway.

He blinked twice before scoffing and crossing his arms over his chest, "You're got to be fucking kidding me."

"I'm not," Rukia said from the other side. She nodded her head to the inside of his apartment and raised an eyebrow. "May I come in?"

He shook his head in defeat and stepped aside. She walked in without another word and quickly shucked her shoes and her purse over to a small corner of the room. She was wearing a very conservative afternoon dress. It was light gray, long sleeved, and ended at her shins. He stared at her as she hiked up her skirt a bit and began to tug down her pantyhose.

He rolled his eyes to the top of his head and leaned against the closed door, redoing the locks with nearly mindless motions. He was truly trying to stop staring at the sheer, silken, undergarment she was currently peeling off of her body. "Please don't tell me you're trying to pull something _now_ Kuchiki."

"I just spent," she began in a conversational tone, "Four hours practically locked in a room with my older brother." She tossed the pantyhose in the same area as her shoes and then worked down her—oh sweet Jesus was that her underwear?

She kept going as though there was nothing unusual about undressing in the middle of a living room while a very aroused man watched. "He started telling me that we—you and I—had an improper business relationship because we _bicker_ too much. I had to hold off on telling him what we did in our spare time last Friday."

He didn't know how she did it but she was able to take off her bra and slide it down her entire body so it appeared from the bottom of the dress. But he was sure as hell grateful. Her tone didn't even change as she tossed it aside.

"Then he began telling me all about how he wants to make a will and how he needs to include my future husband and my future children in it. Then he basically told me that I was getting old and that I needed to hurry up and reproduce." She raised an eyebrow and began to slide her arms out of the sleeves. "So really, I'm irritated, I'm tired, and I want to have sex."

_At least she's clear about what she wants._ Ichigo mused.

Rukia began to shimmy the dress over her head and once it was off she turned to face him. She smiled softly and backed up a bit so she could sit comfortably on the couch. She crossed her legs like a lady and calmly placed her arm over the back of the cushy surface. The other rested between her legs. She would have looked normal if she hadn't been completely naked.

"So this is my logic," she held up a hand and began to tick off fingers as she spoke, "You are not doing anything right now. I am not doing anything right now. It is Friday night and neither you nor I have anything to do tomorrow. I am feeling very sexually frustrated right now and I have a feeling that you will be able to help me with that." She cocked her head to the side and evaluated him with a small smile. "So… what do you say?"

Ichigo already had his shirt off and was working on his jeans when he reached one hand out and leveraged it against the couch. He bent down and felt his lungs constricting in his chest. Her eyes followed him as he finished working on his zipper and placed both of his hands on her knees. He saw her eyes dilate with hunger and he smirked.

"I think," he said in a hungry voice as he spread her legs apart. "That you talk too much."

"Going straight for the pussy," Rukia sighed as she arched her back and allowed Ichigo's hot breath to lave her. "I like a man who does that."

Ichigo chuckled and brought his thumb out to tease her clit while probing her gently with his other fingers. Her breathing tightened and he saw her hands constrict on the couch. He brought his second hand up between her legs and slid three fingers inside of her.

"Ah!" Rukia cried, her eyes were shut tight and she demandingly scooted even further down the couch until her ass was nearly hanging off the edge. "U-Use you-r m-mouth," she gasped, crushing one of his pillows underneath her hands.

Ichigo smirked and leaned forward. His breath teased her for several moments; he allowed himself to drink in the heady flavor of her essence. He smelled that which was truly and purely Rukia. He was still pumping into her with his fingers and testing her clit with his thumb, but he knew that it was the warmth of his lips that she craved, the slick playfulness of his tongue, and the gentle scraping of his teeth. He glanced up at her quickly and noted her shut eyes, her erect nipples, her expanding and retracting chest, and her open, panting, mouth.

He could barely contain his smug sense of satisfaction. He snickered lightly as he bent forward and flicked his tongue over her. She jolted in surprise and he had to fight to keep her legs from clamping hard around his head. He moaned at how wet she was. He was practically drinking her because she was so aroused.

His fingers were moving at an incredibly slow rate. He felt beads of sweat beginning to run down her entire body. He was feasting hungrily on her and her body was accepting it willingly. She was arching against the couch, panting against the actions of his mouth and fingers, and moaning wantonly.

Ichigo chuckled darkly against her and pressed his face against her with more earnest than before. He didn't know what was going on with him but he absolutely _loved_ the reaction he was getting from her. The more he stroked her with his tongue the wetter she became, the more of her he drank, and the more intoxicated he became. It was overpowering, it was delicious, it was just… _Rukia_.

She said his name in one breathy whisper and Ichigo felt a shudder run through his entire body. Her fingers had fairly ripped apart one of his pillows and were inching closer and closer to his head. He knew that if she didn't get some type of release soon he was going to have to come up with an explanation for the several sudden bald spots that would appear on his scalp.

His fingers were almost ready to put the finishing touches on her impending orgasm when he felt her fingers pushing against his forehead. He tried to ignore them at first but after a moment they became much more insistent. With a groan of distaste, Ichigo pulled away and turned his angrily aroused glare onto the woman causing him so much pain.

Her eyes were a hazy shade of violet sapphires and were boring into his with the intensity of five hundred stars. He swallowed under the scrutiny but was delighted when more of her unique taste slipped down his throat. His body became boneless as she shoved him away from her. Her nails dug into his shoulder but he didn't object when she pulled him onto the couch so he was sitting beside her.

In one smooth move she was straddling his legs and before he could say another word she was surrounding him. Her tight, wet, extraordinarily velvety heat enveloped his engorged hardness like a glove. Her hands immediately went to his neck while his went around her waist.

Her face contracted the moment he was inside of her to the hilt. With a sharp cry she let loose the orgasm she had been holding in. Ichigo nearly passed out at the exquisite torture of feeling her walls clamp down on him without provocation. She was shaking around him and holding him tight enough to choke. Her breathing was labored, her chest was heaving up and down, leaving Ichigo with an unobstructed view of her pert breasts.

She was pulsating against him and Ichigo matched her with his throbbing cock. He let out a single, shuddering, breath, and slowly opened his eyes—he hadn't even realized he'd closed them.

Her eyes were staring into his and, even though he thought it wasn't possible, with that simple contact Ichigo became more turned on than he had all night. It was as if he could see directly into every secret desire she held close to her heart. He could see her fantasies, her wishes, and her naughtiest, kinkiest, and the most fantastic sex dreams she had ever concocted.

In one single move Rukia was lying flat against the floor of his apartment. The carpet scratched against her back as he slowly pulled out of her and, still watching every flicker of her eyes, slammed back inside.

She let out a sharp shriek and clamped her hands around his back. One of her hands tangled up in her hair while the other dug its nails into her back. She arched upwards and pressed her stomach against his. Her body curled around his and she buried her head in his neck. Her lips began busily working on his skin and her little pink tongue caught droplets of sweat and they rolled down his neck.

Ichigo pulled out and slammed back in again with a wild force. Rukia clung to him as hard as she possibly could and tried to meet each of his thrusts with a roll of her hips. He was animalistic though; his body seemed specifically designed to pummel into this woman's body with a power unlike any she had ever experienced before.

Her eyes flew open and her mouth gaped in a soundless scream when she felt her body begin to shake once again. She clenched her teeth shut and gripped the strands of his hair even harder as she came. Her juices gushed from her body and coated him as he thrust in and out of her.

Ichigo felt heady and light as his body began tingling with the tell-tale signs of his release. Rukia moaned into his ear and at that very sound he knew that he couldn't hold on to his release any longer. In one final thrust he erupted inside of her body. She clutched him even harder than before as he exploded.

He collapsed on top of her without a second thought and tried to regain the ability to breathe. Christ he felt so good. The type of good that only comes after having a fantastic and mind-blowing orgasm.

Self-serving didn't even come close to _this_.

Her hands were clutching at his back, her fingers flexing and relaxing against his skin as she breathed. Her body was completely crushed underneath of his. He groaned and rolled off to the side. He nearly ran into his coffee table but was able to avoid it in just enough time.

"Ah!" He groaned, blinking several times at the glowing light of the lamp above him. He waved away a piece of his clothing and frowned at the feeling of the scratchy carpet against his back. He wondered if he had given Rukia rug burn.

"See?" She gasped between heaving breaths, "I knew… you could… _help_."

He snorted and wiped a thin stream of sweat away from his forehead. "Glad… to be of… service." He muttered ruefully.

He flipped his body towards her until he was leaning over her enticingly sexual form. Her eyes were still wonderfully hazy and her pink skin was still glowing with post-coital warmth.

"So what is this?" He asked casually, descending his mouth and pressing kisses to her neck and collarbone. "Am I your personal prostitute now? Giving you sex whenever you feel like it?"

"Except you won't get paid."

"I feel so loved."

"You shouldn't," Rukia told him, squirming her body against his, "You should just feel used."

He drew back and frowned at her contentedly smug expression. "So let me get this straight," he muttered, "You basically get to call me up whenever you feel like it and sleep with me for no reason other than you want to?"

She cocked her head to the side and raised an eyebrow, "You have a problem with that?"

Ichigo slid back a bit until he was sitting up against the edge of the couch. He placed his arm casually over a cushion and glared. "Actually, even considering my history with this sort of thing, I do."

"That's surprising," she sighed, she raised herself and placed her back against the couch as well.

"I know," he sighed and roved his head around his neck, "So what, you're just going to ignore me all during work and then fuck me later on in the afternoons and on the weekends?"

"In a completely simplified way… yes." She said, sighing and then beginning to stretch out her arms. "But I won't ignore you when it comes to work. We just won't talk about sex."

His eyes widened. "Not… talk about _sex?_ Are you serious?"

"As a heart attack." She stood and began stretching her entire body. Ichigo watched her with increasing interest and fought to keep his mind free of his hazy desires. His eyes roved down to the sweet bundle of curls between her legs. His mouth went dry when he saw the slickness on her legs and beads of his own semen running down her thighs.

"Listen, Ichigo," she fell to her knees and began to slide kisses over his neck. "Think of this as some kind of… gift." One of her hands slid down his chest and followed the trail of golden curls down his body.

"A gift?" He asked, his breathing increasing twofold when he felt her fingers begin to toy with his growing erection.

"Yes," she whispered hotly into his ear, wrapping her hand around his entire cock and stroking it with increasing fire. "You like having sex with me, I like having sex with you—more than I should really—but the fact is… now that I've had it I don't want to lose it." She added a second hand to the pressure she was applying to his erection and laughed gently as she passed her thumb over the tip of him. He jerked against her and she grinned wickedly.

"So this is what I propose," she whispered, teasing his earlobe with her tongue, "I propose that we come to some sort of arrangement. Sex with no strings. Just pure, carnal, absolute, pleasure. Nothing more and nothing less, whenever we feel like it."

She tugged sharply on his erection and he felt like shrieking at how good it felt.

"What do you say?"

He was standing in a mere second. Reaching down quickly he yanked Rukia to her feet and began dragging her towards his bedroom. She followed him grinning like a young puppy followed its master.

Without further ado, Ichigo pushed her—laughing—onto the bed and watched as her body bounced delightedly on the mattress. He climbed over her and kissed her quickly on the lips. He grinned and raised his eyebrow softly.

"Just don't think about going back on it," he said before driving himself far and deep inside of her.

Neither of them bothered to realize that sex without strings never panned out well.

**(A/N: I decided to update early because I was so late last time.**

**Well now, what do you all think of this chapter? I hope I got everything stuffed in there: drama, suspense, creepiness, humor, and—of course—a lemon. Can't forget the lemon.**

**Just so you all know, now that we've gotten over the initial lemon, each chapter should have a citrusy flavor to it, or just have a full on lemon, inside of it. You've been warned.**

**Please LEAVE REVIEWS!! I'd like to know what everything thinks about this new development between our carnal love birds. I think it fits the IchiRuki personality that I've created in this fic, and really, sex with no strings? Psh… I laugh.**

**Oh, and once again, please remember that I despise Orihime Inoue with every fiber of my Bleach being. I would rather not get any reviews detailing the good aspects of her character. I know she has some sort of use but… I really don't care. She's just that **_**one**_** character that I saw—when I first watched/read Bleach—that I had this immediate gut reaction where I was like 'Wow… I really don't like you.' That gut feeling has stayed with me since Bleach's inception.**

**But really, it can't just be me; I know that everyone must have that **_**one**_** character (in any anime) that they really don't like. Mine is Orihime. I really feel that if you turned up her crazy notch by about two she would totally go psycho.**

**Okay, I'm done. Remember, please no reviews telling me how bad of a person I am for making Orihime just a teensy bit psychotic. I won't care.**

**PLEASE DON'T FOREGET TO REVIEW!!)**


	24. Chapter 23

**Disclaimer: I do not own Bleach or any Bleach affiliates.**

_**Odalisque**_

**Chapter 23**

Ichigo groaned softly and pressed his head into his pillow. He tossed his body to the side and brought his arm out to wrap around Rukia. He couldn't wait to feel her delightfully hot body rubbing against his. He couldn't wait to press his cock against her backside and have her feel his morning erection. He couldn't wait to feel her turning in his arms and gently caressing his skin. He just couldn't wait to drive into her while her body was still soft and warm from sleep.

His arm hit a cold pillow.

Again.

"You've got to be shitting me," he groaned. Still half-asleep, he rolled over to the other side of the bed and grabbed the portable phone sitting on the nightstand. He scrolled through the memory list and blearily picked out a number. He pressed the phone to his ear and waiting for the ringing to cease.

A chipper voice on the other end of the line picked up and he felt like reaching through the phone and strangling it… her. "Hello?"

"You can't do that," he muttered, rubbing a hand over his very tired face.

There was a slight pause before she answered him, "Do what?"

He scoffed and rolled his eyes to the top of his aching head. "Leave before morning sex." He said it as though it was the most obvious thing in the world. "You just don't _do_ that."

"Morning wood huh?" She asked conversationally.

"No shit Sherlock," he sighed heavily and sat up in his bed. "You just don't do that. It's not right."

"Would you be surprised," she said as though she were conversing about the weather, "If I told you that I didn't leave?"

He stopped mid-face rub and frowned, "You what?"

She chuckled lightly on the other line and said, "I'm in your kitchen. Do you smell the coffee?"

Ichigo made some sort of grunting sound in the bottom of his throat and he slowly allowed his sensory receptors to start working. He drew in a deep breath and blinked when he smelled the heady aroma of freshly brewed coffee filtering through the hallway and into his bedroom.

"Oh," he muttered. "Okay, be out in a sec."

"Alright."

Ichigo took the phone away from his ear and began searching for his boxers. He couldn't believe that he just had a conversation—on the phone—with a woman while they were still technically in the same apartment. Damn, just how early was it? He looked over at his alarm clock and squinted at the glowing lights.

It was only quarter of five.

He felt like screaming. He hadn't even set his alarm last night! Did she have some sort of internal clock that told her to get up at this ungodly hour? Come to think of it, she did get up at around this time every day. It was probably just a habit of hers.

He slowly rose from the bed and dug out a fresh pair of underwear. He realized that the others were in the living room. Once he was partially covered he stretched all of the kinks and stiffness out of his body.

God she had done a number on him last night. They had screwed like rabbits for the longest time. One position after another, hour after hour, and climax after climax. She had even gone as far as to throw him on his back and suck him dry.

Apparently, Rukia knew how to beat her gag reflex.

He lumbered slowly into the kitchen and blinked into the soft lights she had turned on. The smell of coffee was fantastic in this ridiculously early morning. He stumbled forward and lurched slightly onto the counter.

"Good morning."

He groaned and pressed his forehead into the cool marble of the island. "Shut up," he grunted, "Why the hell are you up this early?"

She was sitting on one of the stools near the island clothed in the conservative gray dress she had been wearing when she first arrived yesterday. Her legs were daintily crossed and her lips were curled into a soft smile. She had a coffee cup in hand and was quietly sipping it.

"I'm always up this early," she informed him with a smile. "You really should know that by now."

"But Christ woman," he sighed and lifted his head so he could put it on his chin, his tired eyes bored into her twinkling ones and he wrinkled his nose. "Didn't I wear you out enough last night?"

Rukia sipped her coffee once more and nodded, "Oh yes, you did, but I'll probably just go to bed early tonight."

He blinked at her and stood to his full height. "You're leaving?"

She chuckled lightly and swirled her finger around the edges of the cup, "You don't expect me to stay here all day, do you?"

He gave her a pointed look, "I thought this 'sex-whenever-we-want' and 'no-strings-attached' thing worked both ways?"

"It does," she sighed, "But only when our bodies are actually able to function properly."

"I can function just fine," he told her stubbornly. "Do you want me to show you?"

She rolled her eyes and turned in his direction. "Ichigo, I've got a limp. A _limp_ from last night. Besides, don't you think we did enough of that only a few hours ago?"

"No." He took two steps forward and pressed his hands to her hips. She wiggled slightly but uncrossed her legs with a small smile.

"Ichigo," she said, "You do realize that the phrase, 'all good things come in moderation' would apply to this situation?" She placed her hands on his chest and held him off slightly, even though her fingers were flexing on his bare skin. "Perhaps we should just hold off until… next week or so."

He blinked once before raising one eyebrow and shaking his head, "You've got to be kidding me. I will _not_ make it to next week."

"Well, Ichigo," she sighed, feeling his hands rubbing her skin through her thin dress. "Perhaps we can make arrangements or something." She swirled her finger around his nipple and smiled softly, "But right now…" she smirked and bent to press a kiss to his collarbone. "I need to get home, take a shower, and go meet Momo for a bridesmaids fitting."

He groaned and buried his head in her neck. He inhaled deeply before bringing his tongue out and licking her pulse insistently.

She sighed and moved into him just a bit more. He could tell that even though she was tired she was still more than willing to be with him again. She sighed and turned her head to the side.

He could feel himself growing inside of his boxers and he grinned into her neck.

"How about," he began, whispering softly, "We go and take a shower right now?" His hands found the end of her dress and he began to slide it up her legs. He touched the inside of her legs and found them sticky with the residue from their entire night. He grinned when he slid his fingers up and felt her lovely wet curls. His mouth widened even more when he realized that she had forgone wearing underwear.

Ichigo raised an eyebrow and snickered, "Were you expecting this?"

He hoisted her up and she immediately wrapped her legs around his waist. Her arms hooked themselves around his neck as he slowly kissed her mouth. She groaned fitfully as he teased her tongue with his. His lips slid against hers and she moaned when his teeth nipped at them. He broke away after a few seconds and Rukia blinked when she realized that he had set her against his sink counter in the bathroom.

Rukia's mind returned from its slight daze and she grinned. In one smooth move she hopped off of the counter before turning on the faucets to the shower and testing the water with her hands. "I might have expected a bit of this." Rukia sighed and slowly pulled the dress over her head. She stepped lithely into the shower and pulled the curtain back, giving him a fantastic view of her body being splattered with hot water. "And I don't really know about this. Will you let me leave afterwards?

His only answer was to grin at her. He pulled off his boxer shorts and within the span of three seconds he was inside the shower and fully erect.

His hands were around his waist and his lips were on hers the moment the water hit his head. Rukia moaned into him as she wrapped her arms around his neck. She immediately opened her mouth and sucked his tongue into her mouth. She shuddered relentlessly as his warm and salty skin rubbed against hers. She playfully bit his tongue and then groaned when his knee parted her legs.

She ripped her mouth from his and shook her head. "Don't even think about it," she whispered, arching her body against his and rubbing her breasts into his waiting hands. He playfully tweaked her mulberry nipples and squeezed the ivory flesh. She gasped and dug her nails into his flesh. "You need to wash me first."

"Wouldn't it be better," Ichigo gasped, sliding his cock to the bed of curls in the front of her. "If you got dirty first and then washed off later?"

Rukia's leg slid up, as if on its own, and hooked itself on his buttocks. She groaned and raked her nails down his muscular back. His biceps bulged as he lifted her up by her ass and steadied her back against the wall. Rukia's spine slid against the slick and cold marble and she let out a sharp scream when he rammed himself into her.

"Oh fuck!" She shouted, grappling for any type of purchase on his head and tightly gripping his hair.

He reached one hand down and, as he roughly thrust into her, ran one finger across her pussy. His hot fingers flicked and numbed her glorious clit as she moaned and groaned. Rukia's eyes dilated and she grappled for any part of his body that she could hold onto. He grinned slickly as he pulled his cock out of her and instantly replaced them with three calloused fingers. Rukia threw her head back and let out a wild shriek. His mouth closed over hers and his tongue violently invaded every crevice of her hot orifice. She jerked up and down as he brought his fingers in and out of her tight pussy.

After several minutes of viciously pounding into her with his fingers he released her and slammed his cock back inside. Each pass he made brushed against her engorged clit. She screamed into his mouth and almost cried at the intensity of it all. He rammed into her so hard and so fast that Rukia could feel herself slipping against the edges of her own consciousness.

"Shit! _Ichigo!_" She screamed in ecstasy as she came. Her body was racked with convulsions and her pussy constricted to the point of extreme and heady rapture. She clung to him desperately and breathed with increasing difficulty.

The feeling of her searing walls rippling against him was all it took to make Ichigo come. He let loose a ferocious roar and spilled himself entirely within her. He thrust wildly several more times and she wondered whether or not she'd be able to hold herself up inside of Ichigo's slackened grip.

He panted like a dog as he slid out of her and dropped her to her feet. Her legs barely supported her and she had to keep her arms around his neck in order to keep on her feet.

They clung to each other as they stood underneath the stream of hot water. Rukia slid her hands around his body and then rubbed her cheek against his chest. He was so warm… so wet… she loved it.

"Mmm," she sighed, she slowly detached from his muscular form and leaned against the walls of the shower. "Now are you going to wash me?"

He grinned, grabbed a bar of soap, got on his knees, and slowly spread her legs.

*~*~*

"You're walking with a limp," Momo noted blandly as Rukia came into the dressmakers shop and shifted her purse from one arm to the next.

"I am," Rukia returned with just as much enthusiasm. "Now, where do I need to stand?"

A very old, very wrinkled, and very deaf woman sidled up to Rukia. She didn't even notice until the walking, human-sized, raisin was only a few steps away from her. She nearly jumped out of her skin when she felt warm and sagging skin on her palm. She whirled around and blinked wildly at the woman. She, in turn, squinted at Rukia and gently escorted her to a small podium. Momo was standing on an adjacent podium wearing only a slip. Her great-grandmothers dress was hanging beside her and Rukia could only assume that they were seeing if—after a few weeks of hard work and watchful eating—she would fit into the dress.

The wrinkled old prune stood up next to Rukia and began to wrap a tape measurer around her entire body. Her butt, her hips, her waist, and her bust were all significantly and disturbingly violated by the old lady's wandering hands as she measured and tied.

Rukia raised her arms, lowered them, and turned in countless circles, all under the watchful gaze of her best friend, who was standing quite still, analyzing Rukia's body as she twirled.

After nearly ten full minutes of quiet speculation Momo nodded her head once, tapped her finger to her chin, and narrowed her eyes. "_You_ got laid last night."

"Momo, please, not in front of Grandmother Time." Rukia sighed, not even bothering to put up much of a fight or to refute the statement.

"She can't hear worth a shit." Momo said breezily, waving her hand carelessly, "And I thought it was Father Time."

"Is there anything in the rules that says it can't be a woman?" Rukia demanded softly, she snorted in derision and chuckled theatrically, "Anti-feminist."

"Am not," she laughed in return. "So… same guy?"

"Of course," Rukia said as she waited for the Old Lady in the Sea to bring her a few bolts of violet fabric.

"When did go? I thought you were spending the day with Byakuya?" She asked in a suggestive tone.

"My ass of an older brother decided to tell me that I needed to get married soon, have children, and so on and so forth because he wanted to make a will." Rukia said matter o'factly while Momo's mouth dropped completely.

"He said _what_?" She gaped.

"You heard me the first time." Rukia told her, not breaking her verbal stride as she held up the fabric so the prune sticking pins into her skin wouldn't miss as much. "So, I was depressed and angry and all I wanted was sex. Since Kurosaki was free and I had already had a taste of his _exquisite_ blessings I decided to take a chance and go for it." She paused and winced as a needle made contact with her epidermis. "We went at it several times during the night and then this morning in the shower… twice."

"Sweet Jesus woman," Momo muttered in awe. "I didn't think… I didn't think…"

"I was such a sex fiend?" Rukia finished, smiling at her own friends assumptions. "Well let me just tell you Momo, Ichigo Kurosaki is without a doubt the best of the best when it comes to _that_ particular department."

"Good lord," Momo shook her head and pressed a hand to her forehead. "I'm just glad that I'm so in love with Shiro, because if I weren't… well, I'd just have to see if your statements were true."

"Get in line," Rukia told her, turning and wincing when she felt a pin stab her thigh, a thigh which was already bruised due to Ichigo Kurosaki's rather rough treatment last night. "We've come up with an arrangement."

There was silence between them for a moment. Rukia brought both of her hands up to her head and started trying to fix her hair.

Momo's response was slow and a bit wary. "What… what kind of… _arrangement_, Rukia? What kind?"

"Sex with no strings, of course," Rukia told her, running her fingers through her silky locks. She had never used dandruff shampoo before but Ichigo did. He had rubbed it into her scalp as he fondled every other part of her body and she had to admit… she did like the way her hair felt and smelled.

Momo spoke up after another long moment and her voice sounded agonized. "Rukia… please tell me you didn't."

The woman in question flinched when she felt another pin enter her leg and blinked a few times at the sound of her friend's pained voice. She turned to Momo and saw the young woman frowning worriedly at her, biting her bottom lip, and wrinkling her nose in an earnest fashion.

"I did," Rukia told her, "We decided on no strings sex." She tried to turn towards Momo but the damn prune wasn't letting her move a single muscle. "Listen, it's not a big deal Momo. We both came to an agreement that we like having sex with each other and that it would be nice to have it often. So, whenever either one of us feels the need to have someone else in the room while we jack off then we just call each other up and that's that."

The look Momo gave her could have sunk the Titanic.

Rukia took a small step back on the podium and frowned, "Why are you looking at me like that? It's not like we're doing anything wrong."

"You _are _doing something wrong, Rukia," she told her in a scolding voice fit only for mothers or nuns. "You're doing something very wrong."

"I don't see it that way." She defended assertively.

"Listen, Rukia," Momo bit her lip once again and shook her head, "I was in a situation like that once. This one guy, Izuru Kira was his name, I went on a totally no-strings-attached, random sex… _binge_, I guess you could call it." She paused and allowed one of the attendants—another wrinkled prune about five years older than Rukia's wrinkled prune—to start taking her measurements. Rukia listened attentively while Momo continued talking. "It went on for a couple of months and after a while I realized that I was in love with him."

"Oh," Rukia said quietly even though she already knew how this ended. She remembered Izuru Kira and the many hours Momo had cried about him during their college years.

"Then I found out he was sleeping with other people," Momo continued, "Not just girls but guys as well. Apparently he was bi." She shrugged and raised her hands to poof up her bun. "Who knew?"

"That was when you went to get tested for HIV wasn't it?" Rukia asked, even though she already knew that the answer was yes.

"Yeah…" Momo sighed and twisted dreamily in the angled mirrors. "But my point is, Rukia, sooner or later, you're going to get in too deep. He'll be seeing other women—because you _know_ that's his reputation—and you'll be left wishing you could have fantastic sex again."

"What if it's the opposite?" Rukia demanded. "What if I leave him first?"

Momo just snorted, "Please girl, don't even get me started on that." She shook her head and sighed, "Guys like that don't get dumped. They're the ones who always do the dumping."

"I'm not one of those women who stands around crying because of some guy," Rukia told her acidly.

There was a slight pause before Momo muttered something. Rukia turned to her and frowned, "What did you say?" She asked, genuinely curious to what her friend would have to say in response to that.

Momo looked to the ground once before swallowing, drawing in a deep breath, and looking over at her friend. Her eyes were wide and deep as she said, "You did… once."

Rukia immediately went rigid and turned her head away. "That was different." She said, her voice was icy and cold.

"I fail to see how." Momo said, apparently getting up enough gumption to actually talk to her friend about this. It might have something to do with the fact that Rukia couldn't escape because of Granny Smith over there.

"I was in love with him," Rukia told her bluntly, "And he lied to me. He was married."

"And he's different from Ichigo… how?"

"With Ichigo I know exactly what I'm getting and I know exactly what we have. I get sex and I give sex. There are no emotions involved and no complications. We don't go on dates so we don't have to worry about who pays for what or if we go dutch or whatever. There are basically no expectations other than great sex. It works for him and more importantly it works for me too."

Momo started picking dirt out from underneath her fingernails. "How will you two work in the office now? I mean, can you actually look at him without wanting to rip his clothes off?"

"I've learned to reel it in," Rukia shrugged, "We just keep away from each other as long as we're in the office." She grinned softly and felt a snicker rise from her throat, "Who knows? Maybe we'll end up screwing on my desk… or his, doesn't really matter to me. The only ones who would see us would be the birds floating by the window."

"Kinky desk sex," Momo nodded in appreciation, "I like it."

"Psh!"

The tiny squeak came from below Rukia and she frowned when she saw the woman taking her measurements shaking her head. Had the Old Bat actually heard all of that? Did she have some sort of hearing aid or something?

"You young girls today," she chastised in a voice as old as time and as cracked as a mosaic. "Always having relations before you're married. When I was your age I had already had five of my nine children!"

Rukia rolled her eyes and wondered if she had been stabbed with the pins on purpose and not by some accidental fluke.

"Sex this, sex that, sleep with this person, sleep with that person," she shook her head and let out a high-pitched, disgusted, snort. "What you need isn't sex, it's a sense of morals young lady!" She tsked Rukia several more times before sticking her once again.

"Well morals have changed since the seventeenth century," Rukia snipped back, "I'm not going to spend the rest of my twenties spitting out babies. I'm going to have some fun."

"Like that song!" Momo chipped in, laughing.

The old prune just shook her head and stabbed Rukia with another pin.

Rukia turned her head over to Momo and tried not to think about the blood that was now flowing down some parts of her legs. "So, Momo," she began, ignoring another jab, "What are your plans for the week?"

Her friend tilted her head to the side and pursed her lips together, "Well… let me see… I've got to talk to the caterers on Monday, I'm going to be going to the gym with you on Tuesday, on Wednesday Toshiro and I are having dinner, and on Thursday… ah, oh, right! I'm having lunch with Sosuke Aizen."

Another pin stabbed Rukia, but this time it was her own fault. She swiveled over in her friends' direction and gaped. "You're doing _what_?"

Momo laughed nervously and fiddled with the cuticles on her nails. "Ah… I didn't, uh, tell you about that… did I?"

"You did not." Rukia's mouth was open and her eyes were wide. Her best friend was having lunch with _her boss_? What the hell was going on?

"Well," Momo started, flipping her hands out as though she was getting ready to tell a long and complex story, and—lo and behold—she was. "I was going out of Gotei Corp. the other day and all of a sudden, right when I'm about to get on the elevator, your boss steps inside! He told me he had just come from a meeting with Mr. Yamamoto so it was like _completely _coincidental."

Her gaze darted over to Rukia and she grinned nervously, as if she was trying to gauge her friends' reaction from her stone-like face. "So then we started talking about the company and about my job and he asked me how I liked being your secretary—although he used the word _assistant_, how bourgeois is that?—and I told him I liked it very much. Then he told me that his own assistant was going to be leaving him soon and that he'd like some recommendations on who to pick. So I told him I could write a few down for him but he told me that he wanted me to tell him in person. So, we agreed to have lunch to discuss his possible future secretaries!" Momo drew in a huge breath and clapped her hands together. The old lady down by her ankles glowered at her but Momo didn't seem to notice.

Rukia just blinked at her—and winced when another pin was jabbed into her.

"So it's nothing _romantic_, Rukia," Momo chided her, laughing lightly in an attempt to dissuade the horrified expression from Rukia's face. "It's just a business lunch. You have no need to fear what you and I talked about the _last_ time I met your boss."

Rukia snorted weakly and pressed a hand to her forehead. It was suddenly blazing hot, "Sure," she muttered, "Yeah, of course, just business…"

Momo looked at her dubiously. "What is it?"

A low groan escaped Rukia's throat and she exhaled deeply, "Just… if he asks anything about me, my personal life, my business life, my family life… you've gotta know not to tell him anything." She whipped her head over to Momo and silently pleaded with her eyes. "Please, Momo, if… if he does, and I'm not saying that he will, but if he does ask can you just tell him you don't know?"

Momo frowned at her and cocked her head to the side, "Why would he ask about you when he's going to lunch with me?"

Rukia turned her gaze to the ground and swallowed, "Aizen is going to become one of my two big bosses when I get promoted. If he finds out anything that can be used against me… well, let's just say that I might not get the position that I deserve."

Momo raised an eyebrow, "You think he'd use something personal against you in order to get you out of the business?"

"It's happened before," Rukia muttered dryly, "Not to me, of course, but to others… especially women." She looked pointedly at her friend and clenched her teeth, "You have to swear, Momo, swear on your great-grandmother's wedding dress that you won't say a _word_ about my relationship with Ichigo Kurosaki to anyone. Not to Aizen, not to anyone at Gotei Corp., not even to Toshiro."

"I can't even tell Shiro?"

"Momo," Rukia began, a hint of pleading in her tone, "He works for Yamamoto, if he let it slip then my entire future could be ruined. You know how tough this business can be on women. Who do you think would be poised to take the fall? The young, dynamic, smart, charismatic man or the woman who has all the brains and did all the work?"

Momo bit her bottom lip again, "I see your point."

"Just please…" Rukia said quietly, "If he says _anything_ that could even hint a connection to me I want you to clamp up immediately. You know nothing."

"I know nothing," Momo repeated, "Got it."

Rukia allowed a large sigh of relief to escape from her lungs. She looked over at Momo and smiled softly, "Thank you Momo. You don't know what this means to me."

Her friend just snorted and rolled her eyes, "Rukia, of _course_ I know what this means for you. It's _your_ life. I know more about your life than you do." She paused and grinned sneakily, "And even though your life is more screwed up now than I could have ever imagined I wouldn't want to be the one to throw another monkey wrench into it."

Rukia glared at her friend and tossed her head away. "My life is not screwed up."

"Denial is one of the steps dear, we just need to get to the rest."

*~*~*

Ichigo sat with his family on their traditional picnic blanket—despite the fact that the weather was cooling and that autumn was nearly in full swing—and pointedly ignored everything they were saying. His eyes, instead, were trained on the little kiosk that sold everything from water to ice cream. His eyes were carefully scanning the trees and trails in front of it as well, just to make sure.

He settled back into his seat and wondered if Rukia would be wearing next-to-nothing again today. He doubted it, since the weather was something to be taken into consideration, but he could still hope. Maybe a stray breeze would come by and she'd get a chill. Maybe then her nipples would harden from their spots inside of her sports bra. Maybe she'd pass him by and turn to him just so he could see…

Ichigo shuddered at the thought. That would make his day. He swallowed dryly and tried to steady his breathing so his family wouldn't become suspicious. He didn't want to have any more, ah, _little problems_.

Friday night had been absolutely, completely, erotically… _perfect_. Damn, Rukia had been so ready, so accommodating, and so hungry for everything that he had to offer it was almost criminal. Even when his body was spent and he had nearly no energy left in his system he still found himself wanting to be thrusting inside of her, pushing her, pleasing her, and making her scream. Ichigo grinned at the recollection; she really had screamed last night. He remembered it perfectly. It must have been on their third go-round or something because her pussy was so tender from the repeated fucking that she had to throw a pillow over her face in order to hide her shriek of pleasure.

He shifted uncomfortably on the blanket and realized that he didn't really care if his family saw him like this. He just wanted to see Rukia. He bent down and checked his watch one more time and realized that he'd be seeing her soon. So, while gritting his teeth and steeling his mind, he zeroed in on the kiosk.

He had only to wait a few more seconds before her tiny body came running out through the trees. He grinned immediately when he saw her tight running shorts but had to frown slightly when he saw her long sleeved, turtle-necked, athletic shirt. Although he did have to admit… it was pretty tight.

Finally, he turned to his family, "I'll be back in a minute. I have to see Rukia about a file."

Before any of his siblings or his parental unit could say a single word he was up and walking down to her. She had just passed the attendant three dollars when he pulled up behind her and grinned.

"Hey Rukia," he said as casually as he could.

She grabbed the two bottles as though she was barely aware of his looming presence. He had to frown at that; not thirty hours ago he had had her completely naked, had been gnawing on her pussy, and had been making her come again and again and again… yet now she had the audacity to ignore him. Or maybe it wasn't audacity. Maybe it was just… _gall_.

"Hey Ichigo," she said conversationally. She turned to him, flashed him a quick and disapproving smile, and then began walking into the trees.

He followed. "What the hell is wrong with you?" He demanded, stuffing his hands into his pockets belligerently.

"Absolutely nothing," she said, not breaking stride.

He cut in front of her and began walking backwards when she wouldn't stop. He noticed that she still had a bit of a limp from the other night.

"Well you're acting like just a _bit_ of a bitch," he told her sarcastically, as plainly as he would tell anyone else that the sky is blue.

She gave him a sharp look and wrinkled her nose, "The way I act, Kurosaki, is none of your damn business."

He raised an eyebrow at that.

She immediately stopped and bent down. It was only then that Ichigo realized he had nearly run over Momo Hinamori. He blinked twice as he looked down and tried to fight off a small grin. She was lying down on the gravel-dirt path, breathing as deeply as she possibly could—without hyperventilating—and motioning for Rukia to pour water into her mouth.

"Oh Momo," Rukia snipped, "Stop being so theatrical. You can drink your own water." She tossed the bottle onto Momo's stomach and it merely bounced off of her and onto the ground. Ichigo had to let out a small snicker but he turned his head in order to protect a bit of the woman's dignity.

Momo, however, didn't seem to find anything amusing about her current situation. She huffed angrily, rose into a sitting position, and wildly grappled for the bottle of water. Rukia was already drinking from hers and Ichigo was watching with intense interest as her breasts rose and fell with each swallow.

He heard a large gasp come from below and saw Momo, who was nearly completely pink in the face, still attempting to control her breathing. He smirked down at her and she held out a hand. Ichigo sent his down and she reached for it. In one tug he managed to pull her completely off of the ground.

She just jerked her hand out of his, glared at him, and stuck her nose in the air. She took several more calming breaths before gritting her teeth and snarling, "You couldn't have given her more of a limp? Honestly…"

Ichigo's eyes widened and he immediately turned to Rukia. She simply turned her head away and continued drinking from her water. He gave her a dirty look and growled, "Who else did you tell?"

"Please," she scoffed, "Like I have that many friends."

He grinned wickedly, "At least you're honest about that."

Her elbow came swift and sharp and Ichigo grunted in response. "It's true!" He growled and she merely turned her nose up at him.

Ichigo shook his head and narrowed his eyes at her. Damn, all of that preparation and waiting just for her to act like the stuck-up bitch she really was. Oh well, he really shouldn't have expected anything more. Her bedroom persona was just for that… the bedroom. The hard shell of a woman that was out here was merely to protect the _real_ Rukia from the cold harshness of the world.

The Rukia who actually had cares, had fears and uncertainties… the Rukia who laughed and screamed and felt guilty… _that_ was the real Rukia. These outer expressions she put on were merely for show.

Of all the people that knew Rukia… he probably _was _the only person who actually _knew _her. He knew what she liked and disliked about sex, he knew the faces she used when she was pleasured or when she was itching for him to give her release, he knew the sound of her soft chuckle, and he knew what he could do to make her scream. Granted, most of these things dealt with sex—well, all of them really—but that didn't stop them from being true. He knew a great deal about her and when he took the initiative to piece together what he knew about her from her office life—her love of Chappy, her habits, and her unnatural and unhealthy obsession with coffee—he actually knew a great deal about her.

He doubted even her brother knew her as well.

Ichigo swallowed and wrinkled his nose to give his body something to do. He didn't want to start thinking like that. This was a no-strings-attached thing, right? They were only in this for the sex. Neither one of them really cared about anything other than _that_. He knew that Rukia didn't. Rukia only cared about having orgasms as frequently as she could.

Granted, that was what he wanted as well but at least he was taking the initiative to realize that she might not be as badass as she wanted to seem.

Plus, because they had made that deal he hadn't even looked at another woman in _that_ way. Not that he didn't have tons of options available, but really, why should he do the work if he could get what he wanted for free?

He rolled his eyes at the thought and instead turned to Momo, who was still trying to regain the ability to breathe. He nudged her slightly and she looked up at him with frustrated eyes.

"I'll make sure she can't even walk next time," Ichigo told her in a cocky voice.

Rukia's head snapped in his direction and she immediately balled her hands into fists. "Unless you want your dick sawed off in the middle of the night with a very rusty knife I suggest you be a bit more realistic."

Ichigo snorted. "_Realistic_? You wanna talk about realistic? How about the fact that you left my apartment with only half of your left leg working properly."

"So I was down a bit," she raised her hands angrily, "Doesn't mean you'll get me to go all the way down."

"Oh I believe we've already gone past that point," Ichigo said with a wicked smile. "Going down, that is…" he turned his head to Momo and raised an eyebrow at her completely astonished expression. Her mouth was open, her eyes were wide, and her eyebrows were curled into fine arches. "Several times in fact."

Rukia snarled at him and immediately grabbed Momo's arm. She tugged her astounded friend away while she was still looking back at Ichigo like he was some sort of god to be venerated. "Go screw yourself Kurosaki."

"Not by myself, thank you," he said just as conversationally as ever. He quickly walked over to her side and began to trot next to her. "But with you in the room I'm sure I could."

"Not anytime soon you won't." Rukia griped.

His smile flattened and he glared at the profile of her furious face. "So what, we go back to the whole prostitute thing? Am I just your personal sex slave now?"

She whirled around and planted her feet onto the gravel path. Her eyes were staring directly into his and her teeth were bared in a furious growl. The hand that was currently wrapped around Momo's arm tightened and the young woman winced as her skin pinched painfully.

"Unless you want half-assed sex," Rukia ground out, "I suggest you wait until a better time. Because let me tell you, when I don't want it _I don't want it_. You will leave unsatisfied and I will leave in an even worse mood than when I arrived. So _deal_ with it."

"Fine," he snapped, "But if you're not going to hold up your part of the bargain then maybe I should see if someone else is interested in my particular talents."

Rukia let out a humorless laugh. "Oh, _talents_, is that what you call them?"

"You seemed to appreciate them." He accused in an angry tone.

"Sure," she waved her hand dismissively and shook her head, "Sure, feel free to spread your little _talent_ around to as many women as you see fit. Just make sure that you don't contract some sort of disease."

"What is it with you and diseases?" Ichigo burst, "It's not like you can get them walking down the streets!"

"But you can get them from other partners!" She hissed, gripping Momo's arm tighter and tighter as the poor woman tried to escape her iron grasp. "And I'm sure you have _plenty_ of those on your speed dial."

"Be happy to know that you're one of them Sunshine," he growled with as much venom in his voice to match that in hers.

She sucked in a breath and clenched her teeth together. Ichigo just glared at her. His arms were crossed, his temper was high, and for the love of God he could not figure out why she was so mad at him.

"Why the hell are you so pissy all of a sudden?" He demanded vehemently. "You were perfectly content yesterday morning."

"I'm aware of that," Rukia snapped, she brought the hand holding her water bottle to her forehead and pressed the cool plastic against her skin. She drew in a deep breath and exhaled slowly. Ichigo's eyes flickered to her arm and noticed that the grip she had on Momo's limb was lessening a bit.

She slowly looked up and Ichigo and then over to her friend. Momo, at the first sign of weakness, had ripped her arms out of Rukia's grip and was now rubbing it delicately with her fingers. She had a full-on pout going on and Ichigo even thought he saw some tears glistening in her eyes.

"Hey Momo," his eyes turned back to Rukia as she spoke in a voice that was completely different than the one she had used a minute ago. He saw her body twist slightly as she turned to her friend. "Can you give us a minute?"

She was out of there without a single word of protest. Ichigo had to raise an eyebrow at that; he knew of Momo's deep love of gossip about other peoples' social—and sex—lives.

The moment Momo was out of sight of the trees Rukia swiveled back to Ichigo and planted her hands firmly on her hips. She sighed softly and the brought one of her hands up to soothe the ache in her forehead. Her bottom lip was caught between her teeth and he could see one of her temples throbbing.

"Ichigo…" she said in a voice that was terse and serious. She didn't raise her eyes to meet his even though he would have preferred it. "I'm sorry, I guess… that was a bit harsh."

"A bit?" He snapped and then scoffed, "Ya think?"

"Shut up," she commanded him, "I'm _attempting_ to be nice."

"Half-assed attempts," he muttered and she just glared at him.

"I'm not mad at you," she said clearly, narrowing her eyes as if that would signify that she was being completely honest. "I'm not, really, I would just prefer it if maybe you kept our… ah, _agreement_ under more discreet circumstances."

He raised one eyebrow and then the other. "You what?"

She turned her head to the side and shifted her arms so they lay across her chest. "I would just like it if you would not announce it in public. I'd really like our little _thing_ to stay in the bedroom…" she paused for a moment before looking straight at him and finishing, "Where it belongs."

"You're ashamed," he stated bluntly.

She returned the comment immediately. "It's not that; it's simply that I do not want it to get out any further than it already has. If people at work find out it will be horrible. You know how these things go. With your reputation you could be… ah, slandered and with my reputation I could be… what's the polite word for it… ah… _discredited_."

His jaw fell open in near disbelief. "So this is a sort of twisted protection thing?"

She shrugged one shoulder and winced, "I guess you could think of it like that. Not to mention if anyone ever did find out… other than you, me, and Momo—yes, I've told Momo, couldn't you tell?—then my family would come down on us like fucking ton of bricks."

"Sex-without-strings isn't accepted in the Kuchiki Honor Code?" He mocked sarcastically.

She just glared at him, "No. It's _not_."

"Fine." He grumbled, "I guess it would be beneficial to both of us if we just… kept it on the down low."

"Excellent terminology." Rukia affirmed dryly.

"Well it's true." He spat.

The two stood there, staring at each other like they'd want nothing more than to just stab daggers into one another's spines, and slowly gritted their teeth. It was such a different pose than from they were only a few hours ago—locked in passion, tumbling along on a bed, and desperately trying to reach completion.

With an air of finality Rukia stuck out her hand and offered it to Ichigo. "Deal." She demanded. It was not a question.

He stared at her proffered hand for a minute before considering his options—_if I don't agree then I won't get sex, if I do agree then I get sex_—and begrudgingly stuck out his hand as well.

Their fingers wrapped together tensely and they stared at each other for a long moment before Ichigo nodded and said, "Deal."

**(A/N: Sorry for the late update. Homework has been killing me but other than that college life if great! :D**

**A shout out to marislily who finally got me to move my ass and update. This one's for you.**

**Also, another reason for the late update is that I've been writing like crazy. This fic is almost 500 pages long. I might even get to 600 before it's finally over. I swear, this fic is totally **_**epic**_**. As in, lengthy epic. Ugh, gave blood today, need to sleep… zzzzzzzzzzzzzzz.**

**Remember, if you don't like my story then it wasn't written for you.**

**THANKS TO EVERYONE WHO HAS REVIEWED!!! PLEASE CONTINUE TO REVIEW! I T REALLY KEEPS ME GOING!**

**PLEASE REVIEW!!!!! ;D )**


	25. Chapter 24

**Disclaimer: I do not own Bleach or any Bleach affiliates.**

_**Odalisque**_

**Chapter 24**

Rukia gasped and dug her nails into the fabric of his pillow. Her lungs were burning with her constant desperate breaths and her mind was spinning from a lack of oxygen. Her lips were bruised and pink and there was even a tiny laceration on the edge; blood slid down her mouth but she swept it up with her tongue before it could get very far. Her thighs were numb as she lurched on the bed and her arms felt like they were on fire due to how much she was flexing them. All of these sensations brought utter torture onto her body.

But it was nothing compared to the torture Ichigo Kurosaki was currently inflicting.

She moaned in frustration and tried to pull herself up further against the pillows in a desperate attempt to meet his slow and sensual thrusts.

"_Harder_ Ichigo," she gasped; using what little oxygen she had left in her lungs for this one desperate plea. "Oh… _fuck_! _Harder_!"

The skin of his chest burned like a forest fire as it blazed against her back. His mouth was latched onto the juncture between her neck and shoulder, his teeth biting hard onto the tender flesh. She keened when she felt one of the hands under her body move south. His finger rubbed and teased her numb clit. She lurched and hugged the pillow even tighter. She couldn't think, she couldn't breathe, she could just… _feel_.

"I-chi-go," she ground out in broken gasps, "P-_Please_—h-harder!"

This time he actually obeyed. His body thrust into her with the force of a charging bull. She screamed into the pillow and tried not to think of the limp she would have tomorrow. She just wanted to think about tonight. Just tonight and the immense pleasure Ichigo was giving her.

She could hear him panting over her. His breath was fanning out in deliciously hot circles across her skin and she moaned when she felt goose-bumps rising on her back. His second hand—the one not torturing her clit—was busying itself with her breasts. His hand was wedged between her body and his bed sheets, attempting to please the mounds of her breasts even though she was lying so flat.

Rukia felt her orgasm coming on faster than she would have liked. Her pussy contracted and in one delicious scream she clenched around Ichigo's cock so tightly that she thought it was a wonder he wasn't stuck inside of her. Ichigo let out an animalistic groan and pumped into her several more times—apparently reveling in the tightness she offered—before lurching into her once more and giving her all that he had to offer—which was quite a lot.

He collapsed on top of her. His weight was tremendous but it was not unpleasant. Rukia felt his hot chest as it molded to her molten back. Both of them were heaving with the after-effects of wild, hot, screaming sex. He was still inside of her as well. His cock was throbbing insistently, as if it was dissatisfied with the current state of its prostrate owner. Rukia's cunt pulsated hard as she tried to steady her breathing. Her sweating face was pressed deep into Ichigo's pillows and she found that she was not only gasping, but also trembling.

After a few minutes in such a position, the sensation of being sandwiched between the bed and another human being was not something her body wholly welcomed. Ichigo was still above her and she groaned when she noticed he was barely moving.

"Ichigo," she rasped, surprised at the hoarseness of her own voice, she wiggled slightly under his immense weight and ended up puffing out a large gasp of air. "Move damn it, you're fucking heavy."

He still didn't make a single motion to get off of her.

Rukia groaned again and wondered if he was unconscious. _How embarrassing_, she'd have to taunt him about it later.

Using all of the strength she had left—which could have only been measured with numbers following a decimal point—Rukia twisted her body to the side and continued until all of Ichigo was flopped to the other side of his monstrosity of a bed.

"Gah!" He gasped, his body flailing to the edges as he slowly regained whatever he had lost—be it breath or consciousness. His panting—which had been quieter only a moment ago—was harder. It even matched the tempo of Rukia's own sputtered gasps. "Holy shit," he breathed. His eyes were glazed and his mouth was open as he drew in several somewhat controlled gasps.

"Yeah," Rukia gushed, her own treacherous body was making it difficult for her to get all of the oxygen she needed to her brain. Her mind was a fuzzy wasteland filled with the tingling sensations of sex. She brought a sweaty palm up to her head and slowly wiped away the drops of salty liquid from her forehead. Her hair was plastered to her scalp and beads were also rolling down her back. Rukia grimaced when she saw that the elbows supporting her were trembling furiously under the light weight. With a moan of irritation Rukia ended up flipping onto her back, her heated body exposed to the coolness of Ichigo's bedroom. She didn't even bother with modesty, she just laid there, naked as the day she was born, attempting to regain the feeling in her legs.

Ichigo wasn't any better. He was not a foot away from her in the bed and breathing even harder than she. He was completely naked and glistening with sweat. Rukia flicked her eyes over to him and ended up rolling them when she saw that his cock was still semi-erect and covered in all of her juices.

It took them nearly fifteen minutes before either one of them were calm enough to speak. Rukia still felt dazed by the entire experience but her brain was slowly coming around. Ichigo was the first to articulate what had just happened.

"You were particularly vocal tonight."

Rukia exhaled slowly and placed a hand over her eyes. "Yeah well… if you hadn't been acting like such a girl I wouldn't have needed to tell you what to do."

She could practically feel him smirking from across the twelve inches that separated them. "If you can ever find a girl who can fuck you like I can then please, bring her over, we'll have a three-way."

"Selfish, unappreciative, bastard," Rukia said even though there was hardly any conviction backing up her words.

"Whore."

Rukia just sighed, she was too tired for this. "Am not," she replied sleepily.

"Sure as hell moaned like one," he pointed out. His voice got higher as he mimicked her in his next statement, "_Harder Ichigo! O-Oh! Harder!_"

"First of all," Rukia told him flatly, shifting the hand over her eyes and pointing her fingers into the air. "I do not sound like that. Second of all," she raised another finger, "You were doing your own fair share of moaning. Which, I feel I must tell you, makes you sound like a camel giving birth."

"Do you actually know what a camel giving birth sounds like?" He demanded.

"I can imagine," Rukia said dryly, she held up another finger, "And thirdly, as I said before, I wouldn't have had to say anything if you had been thrusting harder." She shrugged her shoulders and replaced her hand, "But you got it right in the end… _finally_."

"I wouldn't be surprised if my cock has a little bend in it after how hard I fucked you." He said just as conversationally as if he had been discussing which brand of detergent works best on multi-colored clothing. "Do you want to check?" This time there was a grin in his tone.

Rukia sighed tiredly, "What time is it?" She asked.

"Who cares?"

"I do."

"Then don't."

"What the fuck is the time Ichigo?"

She heard him grumble a few curses softly as he turned his body to the side and squinted at his alarm clock. "Oh come on Rukia, it's only a little past midnight. We still have enough time for at least two more go-rounds."

Sadly enough for Ichigo, though, Rukia already had her legs swung out on the other side of the bed. Her bleary mind was attempting to remember where she had left all of her clothing the night before. She frowned hard as she tried to think clearly.

Last night… it had been Saturday night, she and Ichigo hadn't made any plans but he had asked her after work on Friday if she was doing anything special. She said no—of course—and he had only smirked. Then, a few hours ago Ichigo had called, asked her if she wanted to come over, and—seeing how she had nothing better to do—had walked over to his apartment.

The doorman greeted her with a friendly yet condescending smile—Rukia ignored it, she knew that she made more money in a week than he did in six months—and Rukia had gone up to Ichigo's apartment. He had greeted her with a trademark smirk and a boner and had wasted no time in pulling her inside the apartment and throwing her on the couch. From then they had progressed to his hallway and then finally to his bedroom. In each location Ichigo had been far more dominant than he usually was. Normally, Rukia enjoyed being equal in bed, or even better, being the prevailing partner. However tonight, Ichigo's wild side had come into play and he had made sure that he was the one who was always on top… all night long. Thus explaining the small bite mark on her lip. Momo would have a field day with that one.

Rukia stood from the bed and took several steps away from it. She hadn't heard Ichigo try and make any significant moves off of it so she figured that he was still too exhausted to move properly. She groaned and stretched her tired and aching muscles. Her arms felt like they had been branded, her legs felt like jelly, her breasts felt raw, and her pussy felt numb. But that was to be expected, she guessed, because after all, having sex with someone as forceful as Ichigo Kurosaki had its ups and its downs. Soreness just happened to be one of the downs.

She was quite sure that Ichigo was watching her as she stretched—or at least watching her ass—so she made sure to keep her ears open in case he decided to ambush her into another round.

As casually as she could—and all the while staying the proper distance away from Ichigo—Rukia walked around his bed and made her way out into the hallway.

Stark naked.

The halls were still lit, seeing as how Ichigo wasn't one to remember such trivial things as turning off lights when he was in the heat of passion. They made Rukia's skin glow luminously as she tread back to the couch. One the floor beside the navy blue structure she found her panties and her bra along with her skirt and her tee shirt. She sighed and bent to pick each one of them up before going back into the hall and sliding into the guest bathroom she hadn't realized existed before.

It was a tiny thing; the bathroom that is, with only a toilet and a sink but it didn't matter to Rukia. She carefully grabbed a few handfuls of paper towels and wet them. After a moment she gently eased them between her thighs and began to wipe away the remnants of Ichigo's… ah, _explosion_.

She stayed silent as she worked, just in case Ichigo wanted to sneak up on her again—which he was prone to doing quite frequently. In the past three weeks they had been having their special arrangement he had managed to ambush her four times. Each time she was clearly too exhausted to have anymore sex but he only laughed, kissed her, and they ended up screwing on/in wherever she had been hiding.

Rukia did allow herself one tiny sigh as she cleaned herself. Three weeks this thing between them had been going on… three solid weeks. Most of the time they kept their little _sessions_ detained to the weekends but there were a few times during the work week when the sexual tension between them had been so great that they had rushed to Ichigo's apartment directly after work to have afternoon forays that lasted well until midnight.

Rukia smiled wryly in front of the mirror as she disposed of the paper towels and began to toss on her clothing. Damn but it was fun having sex with Ichigo. All of the power, the hunger, the desperation, he possessed was incredible. And for her, having the ability to have him please her whenever she wanted it was addictive. Whenever she wanted him he was always right there to have. Like a delicious dessert tray that never seemed to run out.

Her wry smile became a bit more lopsided as she thought of it. It was strange really, whenever she was in the mood, it was like he could sense it. That, in itself, made him completely receptive to any amount of sex that would eventually incur. The times where he wanted it and she didn't were rare, hell, almost nonexistent. The only times she could think of were ones like right now, when she needed to leave or when she just couldn't bear the thought of limping even more.

All in all, Rukia thought it was a very nice compromise. Ichigo had even held up his bargain about the workplace. Not once did he ever mention banging her to any of his friends or coworkers—she would have known, she would have seen the looks if he had told. He kept his trap shut and for that she was grateful.

The only instances where he seemed to break his oath—only slightly though—was when he would stare at her too long, grin without provocation while looking in her direction, and stand too close to her whenever they needed to collaborate on a file. He wasn't technically breaking any of the rules by doing these things… he merely saw them as loopholes that he could go around.

Rukia stared at herself in the mirror and began to examine her appearance. She sighed heavily when she saw the rather obvious bite mark that had been left on her neck. She groaned when she thought of the makeup she'd have to cover it with come Monday morning. Or she could put some ointment on it tonight and hope that it went away in time. She checked the rest of her to make sure that there were no external signs to show what she and Ichigo had been up to. She grumbled when she noticed a few bruises on her arms and rolled her eyes silently. It was so much easier for Ichigo to cover things like that up than it was for her. Her skin was milky white and any bruises that she gained would show up immediately. And she bruised like a peach! Ichigo, on the other hand, had tan skin and hardly bruised at all. Plus, she only _damaged _him in areas that could be concealed, such as the occasional nail scrapes on his back.

It certainly wasn't fair.

_Oh well,_ she thought ruefully, _at least it's November, I can wear long-sleeved shirts and turtle necks all the time without anyone thinking it's weird._

With one final check of her appearance in the mirror, Rukia turned away and exited, only to find herself face to muscle with Ichigo's chest.

His hands reached out to grasp her arms. Rukia just closed her eyes and sighed, "Come _on_ Ichigo, it's after midnight and I am completely bushed from that last time. Can't we just call it a night?"

His grip didn't less and she flipped open her lids in irritation. What she saw surprised her. Ichigo—contrary to her first belief—was actually wearing clothing. Lots of them too. He had on a pair of old jeans that looked butter soft and clung to his legs like glue—accenting _everything_ that he had to offer—and a plain tee shirt with a medium sized jacket over top of it.

Rukia just blinked and turned her gaze towards his face. "What are you doing?"

He released her arms and tossed something towards her. She caught it nimbly and frowned when he started to walk away without saying a word. Glaring like a child, Rukia pulled open the soft thing he had given her and had to suppress a small gasp when she realized it was a jacket.

The jingle of keys met her ears when she walked dumbly out into the living room. Ichigo was standing near the door, the keys to his Benz twirling in the fingers of his right hand and a small smirk playing on his face.

She just stared at him, not comprehending anything.

"Like you said," Ichigo began, his voice slightly mocking, "It's after midnight. I'd also like to add that it is November, it's cold, and I am not letting you walk back to your apartment looking like that."

Rukia looked down at herself and frowned, "Looking like what?"

"Like you just had sex," he pointed out clearly, "Trust me Rukia, there are tons of guys out there who see a woman like you and would go for it, no matter what the circumstances."

"There are random men out there who can tell if I've had sex?" She repeated dubiously.

He just cocked his head and raised an eyebrow, "Rukia, from the way you look, a two year old could figure that out. Plus, lots of men out there could think you might be up for another go, even if you're not all that willing."

"You mean rape," she stated matter-o-factly.

"Exactly."

"So your solution to such a problem is to…" she trailed off, staring at the keys in his hand.

"Drive you home," he said simply as he opened the door. He threw her one last look and said, "Be sure to wear the jacket, it's bound to be cold outside," before he exited.

Rukia, slightly irritated that he could be so callous about a thing as hideous as rape, followed after him begrudgingly. He was waiting for her outside and as she exited he shut the door and twisted the key into its lock. She waited for the resounding click before heading down the hall towards the primary elevator. Ichigo wasn't far behind her and she slid her jacket on while she waited.

When she stepped inside the elevator she pushed the button and stuffed her hands in her jacket. She had been over here enough to finally know her way around. This elevator would lead to the underground parking lot, the one next to it only went as far as the lobby, and always make sure to avoid nosy neighbors. Rukia had to cringe when she thought of one of Ichigo's neighbors. His name was Keigo Asano and he had the uncanny ability to know when someone has just had sex. Once, when Rukia was exiting Ichigo's building, she had passed Keigo—without even looking at him—and he had immediately gone to Ichigo and asked if he had gotten laid.

_Poor boy must jack off into warm grapefruits._ Rukia thought as she exited the elevator and headed for Ichigo's distinctive, black, Benz. _Maybe that's why he's so intent on everyone else's sex lives… he doesn't have one of his own._

Ichigo beeped the car open and Rukia slid in, fighting off a slight shiver that came into her limbs as she realized just how cold it was. She didn't mind the cold really, actually, she preferred it. But after just spending countless hours locked in Ichigo Kurosaki's hot embrace everything else felt horrifically chilly.

Ichigo started his purring engine with a small smile and pulled out of the lot. Rukia settled in beside him and waited for the heat to finally kick in.

"So…" Ichigo said after a few minutes of peacefully silent driving, "Normally you're only that demanding when you have a lot on your mind." He turned to her and raised an eyebrow. "Anything I can help with?"

She knew that he was referring to their work environment because he sure as hell wouldn't offer to help with anything outside of that. Rukia just leaned her head back against the soft cushions of his car and sighed, "Not really, it's just Momo."

"Oh," he said, as though no other explanation was needed. "I see."

"She's been getting testier and testier about the wedding." She informed him, filling in some of the blanks here and there.

"Well it's only three and a half months away."

"I'm surprised you remembered," Rukia admitted quietly.

"Please," he scoffed, "The girl rams it down my throat every time I see her. She even gave _me_ an invitation. Any idea why she would do that?"

Rukia didn't even look at him when she answered, "Maybe because you're screwing her best friend?"

There was silence for a moment.

"Oh…"

"Yeah."

"Does that mean that she wants me to take you?" He demanded as he pulled into a spot a few yards away from her apartment complex.

Rukia turned her head to him and glowered, "I am perfectly capable of taking myself to the wedding, provided I don't have to dance with Momo's horrible cousin Yumichika." Rukia recalled Momo's earlier threat and shuddered. "Don't feel obligated to go or anything. It's up to you."

"Sure," he muttered sarcastically, "I'm sure Momo will _definitely_ see it that way."

"Look," Rukia told him, unfastening her seatbelt and twisting towards him. "I've already told her what we are. This no-strings-attached, only-when-we-want-to thing is clear to her. She gets it. However, she might not accept it right away. If you ever need to reinforce the idea on her don't hesitate." She pulled her nose into a wrinkled frown and sighed, "Momo just needs to realize that we're doing this for our own pleasure, it's not like it's going anywhere."

"Right," Ichigo told her, his tone was one of conviction. There wasn't a shred of doubt to waver it. "Absolutely."

"Good," Rukia affirmed, her voice held a small twist as she said the word. She paused momentarily and wondered if she was waiting for Ichigo to say something.

_Something what? _Her mind annoyingly asked her. _A contradiction? Please, keep moving. _

Rukia shook her head, clearing her mind and effectively ended the conversation that they had been having. "Now," she leaned over the center of his car and grabbed onto his jacket collar. "Kiss me."

"You don't beat around the bush, do you?" He asked as raised one eyebrow, "Why should I do that?"

"Because I'm leaving," Rukia told him, "And I feel like it." She inched up a bit further until her lips were only a breath away from his. "So kiss me." She whispered.

Ichigo needed no further instruction. His hands immediately left whatever they had been holding onto in the car and wrapped around her body. His fingers brushed her cheeks and his other arm wound around her waist as tightly as it could, given their position in the car.

His hot, masculine, lips, descended upon hers with a ferocious hunger. He wasted no time in pleasant foreplay but immediately nipped at her bottom lip and forced her mouth to open to his assault. Rukia groaned audibly as his tongue wrapped around hers, sucking her into his mouth and tasting every inch of her incredibly hot orifice.

She moaned fitfully when she felt his teeth scrape against her soft skin. Her body was starting to react to him and she shuddered softly when she felt the slickness between her legs grow. Her nipples puckered and her sexually exhausted brain began to recharge. Her hands somehow found their way into his hair and she gripped it hard. His nose was smashed against hers as he angled his head and drove into her from a completely different angle.

The arm around her back slid down enough so that his hands could cup and grope her ass. Rukia felt his strong fingers kneading into her buttocks with the intention of a furiously sexual man. She panted into Ichigo's mouth and wondered if her face was becoming blue from lack of oxygen. It just felt so good; she felt that breathing was only secondary to what Ichigo was providing her with right now. Oxygen could definitely wait if he was going to be kissing her like this for much longer.

The hand that had been caressing her cheek slowly slid down her neck. His thumb paused to press onto her pulse point and Rukia gasped when she felt the fluttering herself. It was like her heart had doubled its pace. Slowly, his fingers continued their way down her body until her breasts were within reach. She moaned and pressed them against his waiting palm.

Ichigo ripped his mouth off of hers and Rukia immediately flopped back into her seat. Her chest was heaving up and down with the desperate attempts her lungs made to try and fill with oxygen. Her eyes slid over to Ichigo and she saw that he was suffering from the same affliction. He brought one hand, shaking slightly, up to his face and then ran it over his eyes.

"Shit Rukia," he said in a hoarse voice, she thought she could almost hear how hard his heart was beating. "If you don't want to end up back at my apartment then you'd better leave right now."

Rukia blinked in dazed surprise and swallowed when she realized just what she had done. Her eyes traveled down his body and she had to try and suppress a grin at what she saw. Ichigo's cock was nearly fully erect. She could see the prominent bulge through the fabric of his jeans and fought not to snicker.

_Maybe going home with him isn't such a bad idea._

She pushed that thought away the moment it appeared in her head and simply settled for smiling. She reached over the car seats, planted her hands on his thighs, and pressed a quick kiss to his cheek. She retreated before he could catch her and opened the door swiftly. "Night, Ichigo." She said with a small smile.

"Night," he grumbled in return.

Rukia walked to her door and waved at him as she entered. She knew that he would only leave once she was finally inside of the elevators. It was just something that he tended to do. It was as if he was making sure she was safe. She nodded to the night doorman and passed quickly through the lobby. She grinned smugly to herself when she thought of the state she had left him in.

_Damn, one kiss and he's already up for it again? Now, _that's_ what I call stamina._

She pressed the button to the elevator and went inside immediately. At this hour of the night she was practically the only one up. When she got to her floor and entered her own apartment Rukia breathed a soft sigh of relief. Tonight had been a long night—a pleasurable night, sure—but a long one nonetheless.

Briskly, she walked over to her phone and pressed the button to get her messages. She began to walk into her bedroom when Momo's voice appeared on the other end.

"Roo-key-ah…" she immediately winced at the sound of Momo's voice. It was nasally, weak, and sounded like it was coated in a thick layer of snot. There was a pitiful sound of a person blowing her nose into a tissue—at least, Rukia _hoped_ it was a tissue—and then Momo came back on, "I'm sthorry Roo-key-ah, buh I got mah wintah cold todaee. You know I'll haave it fhor a wwhile sho I chan't come brunning tomorrow. Hope you enjouy yourschelf at Icheegoe's. I'm schtuck in bhed. Beetch."

The message ended and Rukia couldn't help but laughing. It was a strange thing when Momo got colds. She only seemed to get one every winter and it always lasted about three days. No matter what precautions were taken, no matter how many bowls of soup were eaten, and no matter how many medications were forced down Momo's throat, she always had a major cold for three days out of the year.

"Momo," Rukia sighed, wondering if maybe she should bring her some chicken soup from House of Wong.

Rukia deleted the message and shrugged. _I guess I'll just go running by myself tomorrow._ She thought as she began to slide off her clothing.

It was then that Rukia realized she was still wearing Ichigo's jacket. She held it in her hand, staring at it as though it was some kind of endangered animal. She swallowed softly and bit her bottom lip. Her eyes scanned her apartment for a moment before she slowly brought the jacket to her face, pressed it to her nose, and inhaled.

Her heartbeat quickened.

*~*~*

Her sides were splitting. Her head was throbbing. Her legs were aching. Her body was hot. Her chest was throbbing. Her fingers and toes were numb. Her entire form was shaking.

With one final burst of speed she launched herself through the last line of trees and exploded out into the early November sunlight. The cold air was whipping around her face and a few strands of hair were whipping around her cheeks. She sucked in a large breath and placed her hands on her knees. She bent her body and tried to breathe. Her entire body was shaking hard and she tried to rein it in.

But damn it just felt so _good_! Heaving a painful sigh Rukia stood and immediately began stretching her arms. The cold-weather top she was wearing stretched along with her and she groaned when her muscles pulled and her joints popped. She had run faster today than she had run in the past few Sundays. The speed had been incredible. She had barreled past almost everyone else on the trail. Tired runners stared after her as she sprinted past and dogs yelped in surprise when she flew by.

Rukia could only surmise that this was possible because Momo wasn't here to slow her down. Not that she didn't love running with her friend but now… alone in the woods with just her lungs and her feet… it was amazing.

Grinning like a child, Rukia walked over to the kiosk and slapped two dollars onto the counter.

"Miss Rukia!" The attendant crooned and she grinned in response.

"Good morning," she said, still out of breath. "Just one today, Momo's ill."

"Oh," the man said as he handed her the fifty cents in change. "Well, tell her that I hope she feels better very soon."

"Will do," Rukia grinned, screwing the cap off of her water and chugging it. The nippy November air combined with the cold water sent goose bumps down her arms but she ignored them. She just felt so good right now. Rukia thanked the man once more and turned to leave…

When she found that her path was blocked by two young women.

_Okay… this is creepy._

Both of them looked vaguely familiar but Rukia still couldn't seem to wrack her brain enough to figure out who they were. The one on the right had sandy blond hair, apple cheeks, a cutely curved smile, and bright eyes that seemed like they had the ability to make the clouds part on a gloomy day. The one on the left was a completely different story; her hair was the same length as the other one but it was a sooty color of black. Her mouth was turned down into a soft frown, her eyes glinted with a harder light, and her expression screamed surliness.

"Um," it seemed to be like the only thing she could say. Her brow furrowed softly and she blinked a few times. Were these two lost or something? "Hello? Do I know you two?"

The blond one's hand shot out and grabbed hers immediately. Rukia jerked back a bit and wondered if she would be able to outrun them.

"Hello!" She chirped, her voice had a childish yet sincere ring to it and it made Rukia relax just a little bit. "My name is Yuzu!"

Awkwardly, Rukia began to participate in the flamboyant hand-shaking that this Yuzu person was forcing on her. The girl began to pump Rukia's hand even harder, like she would end up squirting water out of her mouth. "Hi… I'm—"

"Rukia Kuchiki," the surly one chimed in, she didn't bother offering her hand—even though it wouldn't have mattered, the younger one was still dominating Rukia's entire appendage. "We know. Come on Yuzu, we told Dad we'd bring her back before big bro comes back and realizes what we're doing."

"Right!" The blond one brought out her other hand and grasped Rukia's right arm in a type of death grip. Rukia would have cried out had the other one not given her a sharp look and a rather terrifying glare. Rukia stood silent and watched carefully as the surly one of the pair looked her up and down, nodded once, and then went back to walking.

She blearily blinked when she realized that the two of them were dragging her up a hill. "What are you—?"

"Shh!" Yuzu cried, obviously excited for some reason, if her constant bouncing wasn't already an indication. "It's a secret!"

Rukia just shut her mouth. Jesus Christ, what the hell was going on with these two? They were like that pair from The Shining… only creepier. The three of them trudged one by one up the hill; Yuzu still had Rukia's hand in a grip that could have broken steel. It was as if she was afraid the older woman would bolt if she let go. The surly one just kept her hands in her coat pockets and huffed up the grassy knoll.

Rukia, still very much disturbed by being handled this way—and by complete strangers no less!—she opened her mouth to say—scream—something when the three of them rounded the top of the hill.

"Oh."

_Now _she remembered who they were.

_Ichigo smiled down at her—it was a smile, not one of his normal smirks. What was wrong with him?—and jerked his ridiculously orange head back to the top of the hill. "It's the weekly Kurosaki Family Picnic Day."_

"_Oh, you're family is here?" She asked calmly, crossing her arms over her breasts. She was wearing a sports bra and didn't want him to notice anything was, er, amiss, with her chest._

"_Yeah, my crazy dad, my happy sister, and my sulky sister." He pointed back up to the hill and waved a bit. Rukia followed his gaze and saw that only a little ways away there were three people sitting on top of a hill. One of them was a man in his mid to late forties and two young girls in their early twenties. One of the girls, she had short blond hair and a happy face—or at least, it looked happy from this distance—waved back to her brother. Rukia saw the grown man, Ichigo's father apparently, stare down intently at his son, jerk back in surprise, and then begin to jump up and down. Rukia blinked as she watched him start to run in small circles around his daughters. The girl with the dark hair seemed to be attempting to restrain him while the blond was waving her hands as though she was trying to make peace._

"_They look… interesting," Rukia stated blankly. She raised her eyes as his father was punched in the stomach by the dark-haired girl. He curled into the fetal position and both of Ichigo's sisters turned to them, staring openly._

"_Interesting is an understatement." Ichigo admitted disgustedly. "My dad is Isshin, the girl with black hair is Karin, and the one with the blond hair is Yuzu."_

"Got her Dad!" Yuzu practically shrieked, jumping up and down with her hands still attached to Rukia. "I got her!"

The man sitting on the other side of the quilt began to whoop and throw his arms into wide circles. "Fantastic Yuzu! I knew you could do it!" He hopped up from the blanket and grabbed Rukia's other hand. In one swift move he had tugged her completely down onto a side on the blanket. Rukia let out an _oomph!_ of discomfort and she felt her butt bruise slightly at the way she was knocked down.

Before she could even say another word Ichigo's father—Isshin, if she remembered properly—and his sisters—Karin and Yuzu—were all on the blanket as well. Karin was staring out into space, Yuzu was filling a plate of goodies, and Isshin was—for some reason—staring at Rukia as though he was examining her scientifically.

Rukia panic was rising as she backed slightly away from these people and thought about bolting. _Although this Isshin character looks like he could be pretty fast,_ she thought as images of her being tackled ran through her mind. So instead she just sat, waiting for someone to say… something.

"Here you go!"

Rukia jerked her eyes away from Ichigo's father and turned them to his younger sister. She blinked when a large plate of food—filled with everything from breakfast cakes, fruit, and even hot chocolate—was thrust into her hands.

"I hope you like coffee cake!" Was all Yuzu said before she started going on and on about how excited she was to finally meet her.

Rukia's panic meter was going higher and higher and she only whimpered in disbelief. She turned her head to try and find the only sane one in this family but found that Karin was just staring off into a crowd of dog-walkers while absentmindedly biting a sticky bun.

Her terror alert still rising at an alarming rate, Rukia twisted her head back to Ichigo's father, only to find his face less than an inch away from hers. She yelped and jerked back, all the while spilling hot chocolate onto the bare skin of her leg. She barely registered the fierce burn and instead tried to find some method of escape.

Isshin, however, found her free hand and held it in his. He studied her face for a moment more before clearing his throat and demanding in a very clear and slow tone:

"Are you pregnant?"

Rukia's mouth dropped.

"Because it's okay if you are," Ichigo's father continued as if he was not holding a frightened woman captive. "I've been telling Ichigo for _years_ now that he needs to find himself a suitable girlfriend and that he needs to knock her up anyway possible. Sabotaging the pills, holes in the condom, bareback, I don't care. That way I'd finally have myself some grandbabies. I mean, a man can't wait forever to have grandkids, you know? I just want to play with the little buggers before I start losing mobility to arthritis and all that old-people stuff. Not that I'm old though! I could lift an elephant over my head if I wanted to! But anyway, just so you know I'm not partial; a boy or a girl would be just fine. I think I'd love to have a granddaughter who looks exactly like you. That hair and those _eyes_! Aren't her eyes so pretty Yuzu?"

"They really are!" The younger girl chimed in helpfully, nimbly munching on a slice of coffee cake.

"I mean honestly, I wouldn't _mind_ a boy. Especially if he turns out to have my nose and hair and mouth and ears and stuff. So long as he has Ichigo's hair. I think it's his hair that made him such a tough kid. Remember all those fights he got into over his hair Karin?"

"Yep." She answered monotonously.

"Made him strong, didn't it? Just like his dad!" He puffed up his chest proudly and grinned like a lunatic.

Rukia was now absolutely _positive_ that she had been kidnapped by deranged psychopaths. They obviously wanted her to join a cult or something and spend the rest of her days producing children and eating breakfast cakes. Why _else_ would they be talking to her like this if they didn't want that to happen? She just wanted to get away. Maybe after this she'd get some sort of hypnosis therapy that could erase all of this from her mind. Yeah, that's what she'd do.

While Isshin continued to talk about grandchildren, all the while holding her wrist painfully captive, Rukia desperately tried to find a way out. It was then that she heard a blunt, familiar, voice rolling over her. She jerked her head in that direction and found herself praying that it was who she thought it was.

She saw his hair before she saw any other part of him. Her mind began to scream out in relief when she watched his head of outrageously orange hair bob up and down as he mounted the hill.

"Dad… why the hell did you want me to get these CD's? We don't have a stereo out here or anything so…"

Ichigo Kurosaki stopped when he reached the top of the knoll. His eyes widened, his face became tomato red, and the CD's clattered noisily onto the ground.

"What the _hell_ are you doing?!" He bellowed.

His family's attention was not the only one that was garnered either. At least the entire park ended up turning their heads and staring in a mix of horror and distaste at Ichigo.

The only thought that passed through Rukia's mind was that Ichigo Kurosaki was her personal savior.

"We're just getting to know your girlfriend Ichi-nii!" Yuzu chimed in, holding up a plate she had already prepared for him. "Coffee cake?"

"She's not my girlfriend!" He yelled and stomped over to the four people sitting on the picnic blanket. He stared accusingly at Rukia and glowered, "Didn't she tell you that?"

"Dad wouldn't give her a chance," Karin interjected dryly while still staring off into space. "He just jumped into asking her if she was pregnant."

Ichigo's face, which had been so red a moment ago, was now completely white. He flipped his head to his father and clenched both his teeth and his hands together so hard Rukia was afraid something would break.

"You. Did. _What?_" He ground out, breaking the phrase into three separate sentences.

"Well I was only curious," Isshin shrugged, his expression turning into that of a wounded puppy dog as he stared at his son. "I mean, if she is then I have a right to know." He turned his head to Rukia and continued talking as if Ichigo wasn't there. "That's how I want it to work, you know, so when you find out you're pregnant just come to me and tell me first. I'm a doctor so I won't tell. Not even Ichigo. Hell, you don't even have to give the kid to Ichigo. Just make sure he—or she—is given to Grandpa Isshin! I'll take good care of the little bugger. It's what Masaki would want. Oh! Have I told you about Masaki? My beautiful wife, Ichigo's mother, she wants a grandbaby just as much as I do, maybe even more. Hm, I wonder if any of her features would be passed onto your kid. I hope so! I do love Masaki so mu—"

The next thing Rukia knew Isshin was on the ground and Ichigo was standing above him, absolutely livid. Rukia blinked down at the strange man and immediately saw blood trickling down from a small crack in his skull. He had been knocked out cold by only one of Ichigo's punches.

"Um."

It was all she could muster.

She leaned forward and took a closer look. The guy didn't even look angry that he had been knocked unconscious! His face had this ridiculous smile plastered on it and he kept on giggling as though he was only asleep.

_Is that even possible,_ Rukia thought. _I mean, he was just punched unconscious, how can he still be so… happy?_

A strong hand wrapped around her elbow and Rukia found herself being jerked upwards.

"Come on," Ichigo growled before he began to stride down the hill towards the parking lot.

Yuzu called after them. "It was nice to meet you Rukia! Come back next Sunday and tell me what you think of my coffee cake!" Her voice began to fade the further and further Ichigo dragged Rukia away. They were past the kiosk in a matter of minutes and already on the trail back to the cars. As she stumbled along she realized that she was still holding her little plate of food.

Beside her, Ichigo was muttering angrily to himself. She could only catch a few snippets of what he was saying but she knew that he was pissed well beyond the seventh gate of hell.

"Can't believe they… the nerve! Gonna kill that bastard… early grave… knife… carbon monoxide… put him in his place… that's for sure! Karin and Yuzu… damn them… never eating… gonna strangle…"

Before she knew it she was in front of his Benz. He jerked open the passenger side door, flung her inside, and slammed it shut in one easy movement. Rukia nearly got her foot chopped off by how hard he pushed the door shut. She was nearly about to protest when she saw him angrily get inside of the vehicle. Steam was practically rolling out of his ears as he jabbed the key into the ignition, started the car, and peeled out of the parking lot.

He drove for several minutes in absolute silence, clearly ignoring everything from speed limits to pedestrians.

Rukia just sat dumbly in her seat, still holding onto her coffee cake.

A red light appeared before them and Ichigo slammed on the brake. Rukia lurched forward and inwardly cursed herself for not thinking of putting on a seatbelt. She glanced over at Ichigo again and fought to keep her face straight. Damn he looked _furious_. His cheeks were red, his eyes were hard and steely, and his fingers were constantly tightening and loosening on the wheel.

Before she could stop herself, words tumbled out of her mouth and into the car. "Geez Ichigo, what's the big deal?"

He whipped his head over to her and narrowed his eyes until they were only slits. "Did you tell my father that we were dating?" He ground out after drawing in several huffing breaths. He gritted his teeth and added, "Or that you're… _pregnant?_" He spat the word like a curse.

Rukia's face contorted with immediate anger and she clenched the plate in her hand tighter. "Of course not!" She screamed at him, her decibel level rising by the second. "_I'm_ the one who made up the rules, remember? I wouldn't _break _them just to embarrass you!" She hardened her face to the point of peak diamonds, "And don't worry about me getting pregnant, Ichigo Kurosaki, I'm _much_ too smart for that."

"How do I know you didn't plan this?" He demanded, taking the car into another street with a loud squeal of his tires and completely ignoring her second comment. "I mean, where's Momo, huh? Why wasn't she with you?"

"She has a cold," Rukia spat, truly furious that he would think she would do something so low and still fuming over his pregnancy comment. "I'm telling you the truth." She flipped around in her seat and stared solidly at the traffic in front of his car. "Who do you think I am?" She demanded, "Inoue? I'm not going to set up some elaborate spoof with your family just so I can force you to _declare_ me as your girlfriend. I don't give a shit about that. And trust me when I tell you, I was just as freaked out as you were when your dad started talking about grandkids." She sent him a withering glare and gnashed her teeth together. "How do I know _you_ didn't set this up? After all, it's _your_ family."

"I had no idea they were going to do anything like that." He ground out, skidding to a halt in front of her apartment building.

"Well neither did I, Kurosaki," Rukia spat, reverting to her old appellation just to piss him off, she pushed the door open and got out before he could say another word. Fuming, she held his car door hostage while she leaned her head in and snarled, "Maybe what you need isn't to have sex. Maybe you just need to learn to trust people when they're telling you the truth."

Rukia took several steps back and slammed the door shut before he could say another word. She angrily passed the doorman and pushed through the grand entrance to her apartment building by herself. She walked through the lobby at a brisk pace, frightening one little child who was playing with a toy car. Furious, Rukia jabbed her finger into the elevator and waited for it to come down. Her wait was longer than she would have liked and she tossed her head impatiently while it came.

Something shiny caught on the edges of her eye and she turned back to the front door. Someone else had decided to leave and as the doors opened Rukia caught a glimpse of a shiny, black, Mercedes Benz, waiting on the curb.

She turned her head back to the elevator and felt her cheeks begin to burn.

_He's just waiting to be calm enough to drive,_ she thought hotly, _he's not waiting for me. Not at all._

The elevator dinged and she stepped into it, ignoring all the other passengers. In her left hand she still held the plate of food that Yuzu had given her.

She didn't see the shimmering black car pull away from the curb and go on its way.

**(A/N: Ah, one of my favorite chapters! I just love writing Isshin sometimes. :D**

**A note to all my faithful readers out there: due to massive amounts of brain-squishing homework I haven't been able to write as much as I'd like. Chapters might be coming out less frequently; say, once every 1½ to 2 weeks. I'm sorry! But I'll try to write like a maniac over my upcoming breaks.**

**PLEASE DON'T FORGET TO REVIEW, REVIEW, AND REVIEW!)**


	26. Chapter 25

**Disclaimer: I do not own Bleach or any Bleach affiliates.**

_**Odalisque**_

**Chapter 25**

Orihime Inoue twirled the phone cord around her fingers and bit her bottom lip.

"Are you sure you have enough?" She squeaked into the phone.

"Yes, the money is enough." The toneless voice of Ulquiorra Schiffer said over the scratchy receiver. "It is all I need to get the product."

"Oh…" she gulped and let out a large breath, "Okay… so, did you need anything else?"

"Nothing."

There was silence between them and then Orihime perked up with another question. "What do you have so far?"

"I'm afraid I can't disclose that." Said the dead voice.

Orihime sputtered and held the phone away from her ear. She glared at it for a moment, as though her wordless message could somehow be transmitted through the phone and into the eyes of Mr. Schiffer. She placed the receiver back to her ear and wrinkled her nose. "But why not? I'm the client, after _all_." Her bottom lip protruded into a pout as she waited for a response.

His voice was very calculating as he spoke to her. "Ms. Inoue," he said, his tone taking on an icy edge. "Allow me to make something clear. You received another letter today, am I not mistaken?"

Orihime fumbled with the envelope and nodded mutely into the phone. She then shook her head and answered, "Ah, yes. Yes I did."

"And what did it tell you?"

Orihime cradled the phone between her ear and her shoulder and began to tug the paper she had received today out of the manila envelope. She opened the capriciously folded page and read aloud from the neatly printed script. "'Ms. Inoue,'" it said, "'Progress has been advancing nicely. Call Mr. Schiffer for an update but do not make a move until further instructions are given.'" She cleared her throat after she was finished and squeaked into the phone, "That's it."

"Excellent," he replied, his voice now one of boredom. "If you may understand from that reading, Ms. Inoue, you are not in control of this operation. You are merely playing a part."

Orihime opened her mouth to protest but she was cut off before she could say another word. "Think of it… as a chess game. You, Ms. Inoue, are a pawn, or perhaps a rook. You're only able to move in certain directions yet you're still needed in order to capture the king." He paused for a moment and his emotionless voice took up that extra edge of fortitude. "Do you understand?"

"I'd rather be a rook," Orihime told him after a long moment of thought. "Pawn just sounds so _dirty_."

"Of course. But do you understand?"

She bit her lip and nodded her head, "I do," she answered sullenly.

"Excellent. Now, I shall contact you when I have completed my task at hand. Only then will we truly be brought into the heart of the game."

Orihime heard the phone being taken away from his ear and she bit her bottom lip. "Wait!" She cried, her finger twirled around the phone cord again and her body leaned against the jamb of her kitchen door.

"Yes, Ms. Inoue?" Mr. Schiffer asked in a dull and impatient tone.

Orihime bit her lip and frowned softly, "If I'm a rook in this game… what does that make you?"

"Me?" He repeated, clearly bewildered to be even asked such a question. "Well Ms. Inoue… I'd have to say that I'm a knight. My primary job is to directly serve the king."

Without saying another word he hung up.

Orihime simply stared at her phone and listened to the soft dial tone. Swallowing once, she carefully pulled it away from her ear and hung it back in its caddy.

_I'm a rook,_ she thought placidly as she stared at the white phone sitting peacefully on her wall. _I'm a rook… he's a knight… we serve the king…_

Orihime Inoue just smiled and got ready for work.

_Oh well, all's fair in love and war._

*~*~*

Rukia heard the door open to the office but didn't look up.

"Hey," Ichigo said as he shut the door behind him. He walked over to his desk and placed his briefcase down with one hand.

Rukia still didn't answer him.

He sighed heavily from across the room and slowly made his way over to her desk. She continued to ignore him even when she caught the scent of something tremendously tantalizing swirling in the air above her. Without really intending to, she raised her head and looked up at him.

He was holding two cups in his hands, one extended towards her. His face was a mask of irritation and chagrin but neither seemed to matter to him as he placed the cup on her desk and slid it towards her.

Dubiously, Rukia grasped the warm edges and sniffed. "What is this?" She asked, finally breaking the tense quiet that had enveloped both of them.

"Hot chocolate." Ichigo told her without hesitation. "My mother's recipe. I thought you could use some of it today."

Rukia lifted the cap on her little cup and stared at the swirling brown liquid inside of it. She sniffed the air cautiously and couldn't help the shudder than ran down her spine when the delicate scent of chocolate assaulted her nose.

Slowly, she lifted the cup to her lips and took a little taste. Chocolate, chocolate, and even more chocolate bombarded her senses as she allowed that one, infinitesimal, drop to slide along her tongue and down her throat. Its taste was rich and pleasant, matching the smell almost exactly. It was thick, creamy, and completely wonderful as it slid down her esophagus and into the warming pit of her stomach.

She moaned gently and immediately raised the cup to her lips again. This time she took a much bigger sip. It scalded her tongue but she ignored the burning feeling. This was just too good to pass up.

"Delicious, isn't it?"

Rukia didn't have time to answer; she was too busy drinking her hot chocolate. Instead, she just nodded her head and prayed that she wouldn't drip any of this delectable beverage.

She set her cup down with a soft sigh and immediately wished she had another. God damn but that was tasty. She glanced over at Ichigo and saw him consuming his cup with as much enthusiasm as she had used with hers, if not more. She shook her head in wonder that he had actually gotten them to the office. If she had been in possession of two such drinks they would have been gone before she had stepped outside of the door.

When he finished with the cup Ichigo placed the lid back on and tossed it into the trashcan by his desk. With a satisfied smirk covering his face he leaned back in his chair and gleamed at her.

"So," he said, grinning wryly, "Am I forgiven?"

Rukia looked balefully down at her empty cup and sighed. She tossed hers away just as Ichigo had and straightened her jacket professionally. "I'll have to see."

"Oh come on," he muttered, "It's not like I share my mother's famous hot chocolate with everyone."

"I'll take that into account," Rukia said dryly, fitfully circling her finger around the rim of her Chappy the Rabbit coffee cup. The coffee inside of it now looked so… distasteful in comparison to the otherworldliness of Ichigo's mother's hot chocolate. "Is she a good cook?" Rukia asked next, attempting to change the topic away from the disaster of a Kurosaki Family Picnic that had occurred yesterday and whether or not Ichigo was forgiven for being an ass. "Your mother?"

Ichigo didn't answer; all she heard was the shuffling of papers on his desk come to a complete stop. She turned her head towards him and saw he had frozen still and that there was a very far-off look stamped suddenly into his eyes. Rukia felt a large stone fall into the pit of her stomach and it sloshed around painfully for a few moments.

There was silence between them for a few more moments before she spoke, "Did… did I say something wrong?"

He blinked twice and looked over in her direction. Rukia's eyes widened at what she saw. His face—which had been filled with silent mockery only a moment ago—was… _blank_.

It didn't suit him at all.

"No," he answered, his voice completely even. "No… ah, my mom is dead. Died when I was nine actually."

If tons of bricks had been attached to the ceiling above Rukia's head they would have fallen right about now. A frown creased between her eyes and she bit her bottom lip. Dead? His mother was _dead_? But just a minute ago he had been talking about her like she was alive and well.

_If she was alive why don't you think you ever saw her at a Kurosaki Family Picnic? _Her treacherous brain pointed out. The creases between Rukia's eyes became deeper as she thought back to what his father had said only yesterday.

"_That's how I want it to work, you know, so when you find out you're pregnant just come to me and tell me first. I'm a doctor so I won't tell. Not even Ichigo. Hell, you don't even have to give the kid to Ichigo. Just make sure he—or she—is given with Grandpa Isshin! I'll take good care of the little bugger. It's what Masaki would want. Oh! Have I told you about Masaki? My beautiful wife, Ichigo's mother, she wants a grandbaby just as much as I do, maybe even more. Hm, I wonder if any of her features will be passed onto your kid. I hope so! I do love Masaki so mu—"_

Then Ichigo had punched him senseless, leaving him unable to finish his sentence. Ichigo's father had been speaking about his wife as if she were still alive. He had said things like 'she _wants_ a grandbaby' and 'I wonder if any of her features _will_ be passed onto your kid.' It had sounded like he was talking about her in the present tense. Did the poor man not know that his wife was dead? Was he really that deranged?

"But your father," Rukia started but she stopped when she heard a snort come from Ichigo's direction.

"Yeah, Dad tends to talk about Mom like she's still alive," he turned his head towards her and gave her a weak smirk, "Right?"

Rukia could feel a blush creeping in on her cheeks, "Well… yeah, pretty much."

Ichigo rolled his head back against his chair and started to swivel, "He's still obsessed with her. He even has a huge poster of her hanging in our dining room. It's quite weird actually but at least it keeps him occupied."

_A poster?_ Rukia thought, her eyes as wide as golf balls. _He's got to be joking._

"How did she die?" She asked in a quiet voice.

It had seemed like the logical question to ask. Generally, after someone speaks about someone who has died it is generally acceptable to speak of the circumstances surrounding their death. At least, that was how it worked with Rukia. Whenever anyone asked her if _she_ had siblings she would always say yes, but her sister had died of cancer a few years ago. That was how things worked. She was just doing what she thought was proper. That was the information, she was just giving it away, and there was nothing to get emotional about.

Right?

So seeing Ichigo become so pale in such a small amount of time was almost shocking. Rukia instantly felt as though a cold bucket of ice water had been plunged into her stomach. She swallowed hard and sat up just a bit straighter in her chair. Her eyes scanned over Ichigo's stiff form and she noted how his fingers were slightly clenched on the edges of his chair, how his normally tan face was slightly pale, and how his vibrantly piercing eyes had taken on a glassy shade.

"Never mind." She blurted out quickly. "I shouldn't have asked. I shouldn't have… never mind. Just forget I said anything."

Then there was silence.

Neither one of them spoke to each other for the rest of the day. They both worked on files, read reports, sent messages to other departments, and ate lunch separately. Rukia still went down to the cafeteria even though Momo wasn't there to keep her company. It was unsettling, really, to have so much silence between the two of them. Normally, their entire days were filled with angry remarks, sexual innuendos, irritating quips, and nasty slights into each other's character. But today… nothing.

Could it really have been that bad? Ichigo was twenty seven years old. His mother had died eighteen years ago… had it really been that traumatic that after all of that time he still felt it today, clear as day?

She really couldn't know for sure. The only experience she had ever had with death—other than her brother's nearly fatal shooting—had been when Hisana had died almost nine years ago. It had been painful, of course, she had cried—not much though, Byakuya disapproved of crying—and she had mourned. But in the end she had put it in her past. Hisana had died and there was no getting around that. No way to remedy it.

She sighed when she felt that familiar pang inside of her chest. When it came to remembering Hisana all she had to go on were fuzzy memories of warm hugs, sisterly affection that had been used as a substitute for motherly love, and occasional bedtime stories. After that the memories faded into a mélange of hospital beds, nameless doctors' faces, and tubes of all shapes and sizes… all of them were meant to help yet none of them did anything.

Rukia couldn't really remember a time when Hisana had _not_ been sick. She had battled with sickness for most of her adult life. First it was just simple things like strep throat and colds, those could be cured well enough, then it became more advanced pneumonia, measles, coup… all of these had aided in the weakening of her body. They all had made sure that the cancer had taken hold of her sister effectively.

Once it had gotten to that point she had already lost the battle. All anyone could do was just try to make her comfortable.

_What happened to Ichigo's mother?_ Rukia thought as she walked back into their office after her short lunch. The curiosity was burning deeper inside of her and she cringed when she realized how badly she wanted to know.

_It's his personal tragedy, not mine; I have no right to force the information out of him._ She told herself firmly. _Just let it alone._

So the day continued just as silently as before. Rukia worked alone at her desk and Ichigo alone at his.

By the time six o'clock rolled around Rukia was still flipping through a heap of files and Ichigo was stretching at his desk.

"You almost finished?"

Rukia's head jolted up and she blinked at where the sound had come from. Ichigo had his arms over his head, flexing his biceps underneath his work shirt, and breathing in a relaxing way. It was as if he was trying to find his Zen after such a horribly awkward day.

When she didn't answer he looked over at her, cocked an eyebrow, and curled his lips into a smirk. "Well?"

Rukia's face, which had been filled with quasi-shame a second ago, shifted into an irritated expression. _Same old Ichigo,_ she thought with a mental sigh.

"No," she said, abruptly taking him out of his stretching pose with her answer, "I want to stay and finish these." She indicated to the small stack of files sitting on the opposite side of the desk. She briefly looked back at him and then returned to her papers. "It'll only take me about an hour more."

"Why can't you do them tomorrow?" Ichigo demanded, standing from his desk and coming over to hers. "If it'll only take an hour."

"Why shouldn't I do them today?" Rukia shot back, "If it'll only take an hour."

"Because," Ichigo pointed out dryly as he sat on the edge of her desk, only a foot away from her body. "Then I'd have to come back here to get you and then take you home. I don't want to do that."

"What made you think I was getting a ride with you anyway?" She demanded, sitting back in her chair and crossing her arms defiantly.

"Come off it Rukia," he snorted, "Six and seven o'clock traffic on the metro in the middle of flu season? You've got to be kidding me."

This realization hit Rukia like a sharp jab to the center of her face. She wrinkled her nose but stayed seated in her chair, just visualizing what would happen if she should actually get onto the metro tonight. All those snotty children, sneezing homeless people, grimy passengers who wouldn't disinfect their hands after they had touched something disgusting, sitting in someone's snot, inhaling everyone else's germs, getting sick herself and then feeling miserable, not being able to have sex while she was sick—

_Whoa, stop right there amigo._

Rukia's face colored at her last realization but in all honesty that was what did it for her. She really didn't want to have to put sex off for a whole week or two just because she had been stupid enough to refuse a ride from Ichigo.

"Fine," she snapped, still making her voice sound coarse and irritated, "I'll go."

"Excellent." There was a smirk in Ichigo's voice. It sounded as though he knew exactly what she had been thinking about right before she made her decision. Still, instead of feeling embarrassed about it, Rukia just gathered her things and let him think whatever he wanted. If he knew… well, he shouldn't be complaining. As long as she was in good health he got to have good sex. It was a win-win situation for both of them.

Not that he technically _needed _her to have sex. Their deal didn't mention anything about to other partners.

_Although it is clearly implied,_ Rukia thought hastily, attempting to shove back the feelings of unease that such a thought brought on.

Rukia gathered her purse from her desk drawer and began to collect the things she would need for tonight. She wasn't sure if Ichigo was planning to take her to his apartment or not so she took as little as possible. Moving as quickly as she could, she stored the extra files in a vacant drawer and made to get up.

It was then that a lancing pain shot down through her inner thigh.

Rukia flinched and immediately hunched over her desk. "Damn it," she cursed; she pressed her thighs together and prayed that the stinging would stop.

"What is it?" Ichigo asked, straightening from his casual position against her desk.

"My leg," Rukia muttered angrily, she squeezed her thighs together even harder and tried to think of cold things. "Yesterday, when you pulled me away from your family, the drink your sister gave me fell on my thigh." She shot him an angry and reproachful glare. "It hurt like hell."

He scoffed and crossed his arms over his chest. "If it hurt so damn much then why didn't you say anything?"

"Oh, like you would have let me complain about a little burn when you thought I was sabotaging our agreement?" Rukia snapped. "As if."

"It's been hurting all day?" He demanded.

"Sure has," Rukia replied sourly, "But the aloe was supposed to take some of the sting off, I guess that shit wore off as well." She slowly parted her legs and placed her hand in between her upper thighs. The burn was nearly in the center but it inched upwards towards her center just a tiny bit. Inwardly, Rukia cursed herself for wearing such short shorts the other day. She should have been wearing longer pants but honestly, the weather hadn't really called for it to be _that_ cold.

She felt the mark through her pantyhose and winced. It was nearly the size of her hand and inched upwards towards her pussy in angry, flaming, tendrils of red.

"Damn," she cursed again. She slowly drew herself up onto her desk until she was sitting on the edge of it, facing the wall. In one smooth motion she hiked her skirt up until it was level with her hips and tried to get a better look at her burn through the nude coloring of her pantyhose.

It wasn't until she felt a warm, foreign, hand touching her thigh that she realized what kind of position she was in.

"Ichig—" she gasped when his hot mouth captured hers. The one hand that was not placed on her thigh had moved to grip the back of her head. She felt his fingers plunder her silken locks as he gently worked his way up to her ponytail. The elastic band that surrounded the clump of hair fell uselessly to the top of her desk and her tresses poured diligently down her shoulders. Ichigo's fingers wound into her hair and massaged her scalp while he kissed her.

Rukia's head was bent almost completely backwards. She moaned from deep within her throat when she felt his slow, fiery kiss begin to build in passion. His tender lips were becoming more and more intense against hers. His teeth were clipping lightly at her lips, telling her exactly what he wanted and how.

Rukia's mind began to fuzz over as he worked miracles on her mouth. She forgot completely that she was in her work office, that she was kissing her business partner, and that the door was very much unlocked. Anyone could choose this exact moment to come inside the door and she wouldn't be any the wiser. Ichigo's kisses did things like that to her. The way he kissed her made all of her senses—well, all of them that weren't focused on him anyway—go numb with pleasure. And now, with him kissing her so _slowly_… it was so new, how could she be expected to remain sane?

She shuddered helplessly as his tongue probed into her mouth. She met him with equal fervor, gradually building up into the passion they both knew so well. Rukia angled her head to the side and felt deeper inside of him. He tasted so wonderful; he was so masculine and arrogant and sure of himself that it was difficult not to feel sucked in by his awesome sexual might. One of Rukia's hands came up behind his head and gripped the back of his neck, pinning his mouth to hers. She didn't care anymore. She _wanted _to be sucked in.

She felt Ichigo's free hand begin to slide underneath parts of her skirt. She whimpered softly when she felt his fingers beginning to drag down the edges of her pantyhose. She shifted in time with his hands and dutifully helped him in undressing her. Soon enough, his mouth was off of hers, his head was between her legs, and he was rolling the pantyhose down her legs in a flurry of kisses, nips, and licks.

Rukia arched her back and felt the cold air against her pussy when he peeled her already soaking underwear away from her center. She groaned and pushed her body even further forward, just to make it a little easier on him. However he surprised her, he didn't even bother going straight for her core like he usually did. Instead, his head lingered near her sides. His warm breath flew against her skin and sent goose-bumps racing over her legs. She whimpered and pushed herself a little closer to him. The throbbing was beginning to become unbearable. She wanted him to do _something_, at least. She wanted to feel his tongue, to experience his lips, and to suffer under Ichigo's unbelievable talent of oral sex. She groaned audibly and inched forward even more.

She felt something warm and wet and tender begin to caress the burn on her inner thigh. Ichigo patiently pushed her legs apart further and slowly kissed around the edges of the pink burn. She shuddered in anticipation when he brought his tongue out for long, leisurely, licks across the entire surface, top to bottom, bottom to top, side to side. Her brain felt like it was melting inside of her head as he ran his fingers gently over the whole area. His touch was soothing. The combination of his tongue, his fingers, and his lips were practically enough to make Rukia forget about her entire burn in the first place.

Hell, it was enough to make her come.

"I—Ichi—go," she panted, both of her lips open desperately. She pushed her center closer towards him and bit her bottom lip. "P-Please…"

It was all she needed to say.

Ichigo's mouth was fastened onto her faster than she would have ever thought possible. She had to clench her teeth together so she wouldn't let out a raucous shriek when she felt his teeth tugging at her clit. Her juices flowed out of her like never before and Rukia moaned as they were all taken in by him. Perhaps it was the danger that they could be caught, or maybe it was the way Ichigo had been so tender to her burn, or possibly it was the knowledge that even people like him could have deep, dark secrets that they wanted to keep hidden. She didn't know what it was… but whatever it might have been, it made her heart beat faster, made her lungs work harder, and made her pussy even wetter.

Ichigo's tongue entered her completely and she threw her head back onto her neck, letting out a silent scream as she did so. She gasped and writhed against him as he pleasured her. She felt the heat from his tongue, the strength from his teeth, and—after a moment—the thickness of two fingers entering her dripping sweetness.

"O-oh," she moaned. Rukia doubted she'd ever be able to form a coherent word to save her life right now. She couldn't talk… she simply _felt_.

Her orgasm hit her like an oncoming train. It was so powerful, so immense, it left her deaf, dumb, and blind. She felt the tightening of her walls around Ichigo's fingers, the guttural groan that came from his throat, and the long, breathy moan that slipped through her guarded lips. He pumped into her while she was coming and lapped at every juice he could collect.

Rukia didn't know how long it lasted. She only knew that it was one of the most powerful orgasms she had ever had in her entire life.

When it was over she was left panting and lying limply on her desk. She didn't even know how she had come to be horizontal, nor did she actually give a damn right now. She simply let the shudders rack her body, let her orgasm finally finish, and let Ichigo come up for air.

All too soon she felt him tugging her upwards. She groaned in protest but got up anyway. She was put onto her feet but ended up wobbling the moment she was allowed to stand alone. A strong hand caught her and a voice laughed beside her. Somewhere deep inside she knew she should have been ticked but she just couldn't muster enough energy to be angry with the man who had just given her such a fantastic orgasm.

"Come on Sunshine," he whispered into her ear, "I'm taking you home so you can return the favor."

Rukia only nodded and gathered the rest of her things. She blinked several times to gather her bearings and realized that her pantyhose were thrown near a random section of the wall, her shoes were clumped near her desk, her panties were atop her shoes, and her skirt was still hiked at a very inappropriate length.

With a blush staining her cheeks she quickly shoved her skirt down—she'd forget about putting her panties back on, Ichigo would just end up taking them off anyway—and stuffed them and her hose into her purse and then slid her shoes on as well.

Ichigo watched her as she worked and grinned smugly to himself. Rukia turned towards him and realized that he had tactfully placed his jacket over his erection—which no doubt had to be bulging right about now. Oral sex always made Ichigo excited. She also noticed how he danced from foot to foot, anxious to be on his way.

"Alright," Rukia muttered knowingly, "Hold on."

She ruefully wiped her hand across her desk and sighed when she realized that it would forever carry the stigma of being a sex desk. Her fingers lingered atop of it for a moment more as she mourned its lost innocence.

"Rukia," Ichigo ground out, "Hurry _up_."

"I'm coming," she snapped.

There was a smirk in Ichigo's voice, "Again? I thought you already did. Damn, I knew I was good girl but I didn't know I was _that_—"

She punched him in the stomach and stalked out of the office. Ichigo followed her as quickly as possible, skillfully remembering to keep his jacket covering his erection the entire time and wheezing as well.

They went to the elevators and waited for one to arrive. The doors dinged open and just as they entered they gave each other slow smiles. As the doors shut they leaned closer and closer until…

The hallway was silent. The only sounds available were those of the incoming cleaning crews. Computers were abandoned, chairs were left alone, and desks were empty.

All but one.

Orihime Inoue sat at her desk, gripping the edges until the knuckles on her fingers turned a sickly shade of white. Her eyes were blank and staring out into the silent office. Her mouth was slightly ajar and her arms were shaking with jealously.

She opened her mouth again and again, words were trying to come out but only sounds passed through. She swallowed and shook her head, her orange hair flying around her face as she tried to comprehend everything she had just _heard_.

"It's true." She whispered, her eyes still wide with shock. "All of it."

Perhaps it was hope, perhaps only arrogance, maybe a bit of naiveté as well. She didn't know what, but a small part of her had always hoped that the one photograph she had seen had been false.

She had thought that maybe it really _hadn't_ been Ichigo Kurosaki inside of that elevator with Rukia Kuchiki; kissing that _woman_ the way Orihime had always dreamed of being kissed.

After all, she had been watching them ever since she had received that first envelope. Their office demeanors hadn't changed much. _She_ was still a bitch and Mr. Kurosaki was still just as wonderful as ever. Nothing had seemed to change between them. She would have known… she would have sensed it.

But now she simply could no longer deny the looks that they gave one another. She saw all of the slight caresses they gave each other when they thought no one was looking. She saw the way Mr. Kurosaki would wait and drive Ms. Kuchiki home—if home was where she really went. No, Orihime could deny it no longer. What she had just heard, what she had just witnessed… it made it all so _real._

Her body launched itself out of her chair and she furiously gathered her things. She left in a hurry, barely registering that she knocked down a box of pens in the process.

As Orihime Inoue walked furiously towards the exit she set her jaw and clenched her fists. She had decided. It was time to become fully immersed in this game. It was time to become the rook full-time. It was time to fully serve the king.

_After all,_ she thought, a sinister edge glowing around her mind as she remembered her famous validation, _all's fair in love and war._

*~*~*

"Are you… sure?" Ichigo asked dubiously as they huddled a bit closer together. The wind was cold and nipped around them as they strode up towards the hill. Both of them passed the kiosk and the attendant behind it—who looked ridiculously warm in his tacky parka—grinned and nodded towards him. Ichigo ignored him but Rukia nodded in return.

"Yes," Rukia said, digging her face even further into her scarf. "I need to tell them."

Ichigo rolled his eyes and stuffed his hands into his pockets, attempting to fight off the chill of the early November morning. He glanced around himself warily and frowned. "Yeah but why did you tell Momo to leave? We could have used her as a human shield if my family got too crazy."

Rukia raised an eyebrow and shook her head, "Then I guess you'll just have to become the shield yourself."

"Hell no," he snorted, "I'm throwing you in front of me and bolting. It's you they want, after all, not me."

She punched him in the side and shot him a withering glare, "I need to do this, Ichigo, and don't you think having Momo here would have made it worse?"

He did have to admit that she had a point. "But she really looked like she wanted to wait and see what happened."

"She knows I'll tell her about it later," Rukia shrugged. She picked up the pace and began to lean forward in attempts to make passage up the hill a little easier. "Come on, I kind of want to get this over with."

"Then why did you come?" Ichigo demanded, lightly keeping pace with her, "If you didn't want to really spend much time here?"

She shot him a sideways glance and frowned into the cold air. "How long do your picnics usually last?"

He shrugged and began to pull up the zipper on his jacket even more. "Normally about an hour, maybe an hour and a half or two." He raised his eyebrow at her and smirked, "But with you here I'm guessing it will go on longer."

Rukia just shook her head. "I'll keep it as brief as possible."

"You just try to do that with my dad hanging onto your arms." He challenged her.

"I will," she shot back, "And I'll succeed."

Ichigo just chuckled, "You're asking for it…"

Rukia turned away from him and began to walk a little faster. Ichigo kept up with her as they strode. He couldn't believe he had agreed to this. A few days ago, when she had approached him and said that she wanted to meet his family again, he had been so surprised that he had nearly choked on a gulp of coffee. Of course he had told her no and she had snarled at him immediately. A rather large argument followed afterwards and only resulted in Ichigo getting another bruise on his already injured side. She had huffed and just glared at him.

"_I need to set things straight, Ichigo," she stated forcefully. She stood in front of his desk and crossed her arms over her chest, her eyes were glowing with defiance and her jaw was set stubbornly. "I need to tell them that I'm _not_ your girlfriend, that I'm _not_ pregnant with your child, and that I have no _intention_ of _ever_ becoming pregnant with your child. I need to tell them that."_

_Ichigo just glared at her. "They're not going to believe you."_

"_How do you know?" She countered instantly._

"_Because I know my family," he returned crisply, "And I know that if you even come up and attempt to deny anything between us my dad will immediately think you're lying." He gave her a pointed look and raised an eyebrow, "Which you are."_

"_Might I remind you Kurosaki," she said, steel lacing her tone, "That nothing _romantic_ is happening between us. It's purely physical."_

"_And you plan on telling my father that?"_

"_Of course not," she glowered, "I am merely going to tell him that we are _friends_ and _business associates_, nothing more and nothing less."_

_He gave her a dubious look and shook his head. "You can try but I can guarantee that you won't succeed."_

"_Well I'm going to try anyway."_

"_Be my guest."_

That had been last Wednesday. Since then he had tried—countless times—to talk her out of it. He even went as far as to try and get her to agree to it during sex. But it hadn't worked; she had had her orgasm, flipped him on his back, proceeded to fuck him senseless, and told him—mid-coital—that she was still going to meet his family.

Damn bitch was stubborn. He'd give her that much.

He had even almost gone as far as telling her that if she went to meet his family that he wouldn't have sex with her for a month. She merely looked at him, laughed, and went along her merry way. Apparently, his poker face had sucked.

_Like I could go a month without fucking Rukia,_ he scoffed inwardly, _as if._

From the other end of the hill he could hear the excited chatter coming from his family. His insides shriveled slightly when he heard his father apparently talking about his upcoming wedding. Ichigo shot a glance over at Rukia and saw that her reaction was similar to his. Her face was scrunched, her nose was wrinkled, and her eyes were narrowed with clear killing intent.

"She'll become my third daughter!" He said, apparently bouncing up and down on the picnic blanket. "She'll be our Rukia-chan and we will love her!"

"Oh Christ…," he heard Rukia mutter.

"Told you." He sneered.

She turned to him and her murderous expression became even harder, "Did you _tell_ them I was coming?"

Ichigo nodded and smirked wickedly, "Trust me, if you had surprised them the reaction would have been increased tenfold.

"You have a crazy ass family," Rukia stated dryly.

"Don't I know it," Ichigo sighed, he drew in a deep breath and prepared himself for their arrival, "Brace yourself."

"I'll be fine." She snipped as she rounded the top of the hill and appeared before his family. Ichigo held back, knowing what would come the moment he appeared behind her.

He winced when he immediately heard two people—his dad and Yuzu—scream at the top of their collective lungs, "_Rukia-chan!_"

He was torn between laughing and wincing when he saw his younger sister's hand shoot out and grab Rukia's entire arm—how that was possible he didn't even know. His sex-partner let out a strangled yelp and was instantly tugged down to the blanket his family was sitting on, despite the fact that it was nearly fifty degrees outside.

"Ichigo," he heard Karin yell from above the knoll, "Come on out. Your girlfriend is terrified."

He sighed heavily and walked up the rest of the way. He screwed his face into a heavy scowl and shook his head. "She's not my girlfriend." He stated clearly, looking over at Karin with a distasteful stare.

Karin just rolled her eyes, "_Sure_ she's not."

"I'm not!" Rukia squeaked. Ichigo glanced over at her and realized that she was being smushed between his father and his sister in an intensely lovable hug. Rukia just sat between them, her body was as stiff as a board and her face was set in a mask of complete horror.

Karin ignored her, "_Sure_ you're not." She scoffed.

Ichigo just sighed and came to the blanket. He plopped himself down heavily and glared at his father. "Let her go Dad. She's not going to run away."

Isshin just held onto Rukia tighter and Ichigo could swear that he saw her lips turning blue. He began to speak and Ichigo looked up when he heard a hint of tears in his tone. Sure enough, his dad had tears in his eyes. "Oh I'm so happy! Ichigo has never brought a girl to meet his family before! He must be so in love with you! Of course, I don't blame him. You're certainly very beautiful and—"

"I didn't invite her," Ichigo told his father, interrupting his half-crazed tirade with four simple words. "She invited herself."

Isshin—while still grasping Rukia to him as tightly as possible—gaped and then turned to look at Rukia. She blinked up at him and cringed so she could get as far away as possible. That, of course, wasn't very far at all. It was like he had super-glued her to his side.

"Then she must love you very much, Ichi-nii!" Yuzu cried, breaking the slightly uncomfortable silence that had encompassed the moment.

Ichigo felt a piece of a warm croissant promptly become lodged in his throat he began to choke immediately. He coughed hard in an attempt to bring the little sucker back up.

It was Rukia that saved him, "Are you kidding?" She squeaked, still attached to his father's side. "I can't stand him! I just… I just w-wanted to come here and clear up any, ah, misconceptions that you might have about me."

"I have no misconceptions, Rukia-chan!" Isshin crooned, still silently weeping, "My senses are as sharp as a tack!"

Ichigo nodded as he wiped away the residual water from his tearing eyes. He drew in a breath—which he could do now thanks to his unclogged windpipe—and said, "She's right Dad. There is absolutely nothing going on between us." _Aside from the fact that we're sleeping together._ "We're not romantically involved nor do we ever plan to be. Just get that through that thick skull of yours."

Isshin's gaping stare went from Rukia to Ichigo and then back again. His mouth was opening and closing like he was a fish in some kind of tank. As the two business partners sat in silence they watched the blood begin fade from his face and cringed when they saw him begin to tremble.

Only a second later, tears began to earnestly flow down his eyes.

"Masaki!" He howled, releasing Rukia and thrusting her dramatically towards Ichigo. She let out a stifled cry as he caught her precariously in his lap. Her head to his stomach, Rukia scrambled up and tried to get as far away from Ichigo as the blanket would allow.

"I've failed!" He howled, salty liquid pouring from his eyes. "Our son still hasn't found a woman to impregnate! Oh Masaki! I'm so _sorry_! I thought for sure that I had raised him to be straight!"

Ichigo glowered at his father and chose to ignore the 'gay' comment for a moment in favor of the other one about his mother. It wasn't like it was completely abnormal for his dad to be wailing to their dead mother. But now, with Rukia being around and suddenly being so curious about his mother it just made matters worse.

Ichigo gave a sideways glance over to Rukia. She was staring at his father with a mix of curiosity, apprehension, and even a bit of fear. He rolled his eyes; he didn't blame her in the slightest. His father could be one exceedingly freaky man when he wanted to be. He looked a bit closer and swallowed when he saw the light of inquisitiveness shining in her eyes.

"_But your father," Rukia started but she stopped when she heard a snort come from Ichigo's direction._

"_Yeah, Dad tends to talk about Mom like she's still alive," he turned his head towards her and gave her a weak smirk, "Right?"_

_Rukia could feel a blush creeping in on her cheeks, "Well… yeah, pretty much."_

He just wasn't ready to tell her anything about that part of his life. Slowly, he brought his mind back to the present and frowned in disapproval when Yuzu started crying along with his father.

"My family is a bunch of circus freaks," he stated numbly.

"Hey!" Karin barked, snapping out of her people-watching mode and turning around to glare at her brother. "I am perfectly normal thank you very much!"

"About as normal as a two headed cow," Ichigo shot back, a sneer lacing the edges of his voice. "You're just on the opposite side of the spectrum when compared to these two nut-jobs." He jerked his thumb over to his father and to Yuzu and smirked. "You're the yin to their yang little sis."

"At least my hair couldn't be worn convincingly on a clown," she snarled.

"No, but your face could."

"Ha! You wanna talk about faces? Yours scares little children!"

"Yours will ensure your virginity for the rest of your life!"

Karin just smirked and turned her head away.

The sharp retort that was going to be shot at Karin after her next expected comment fell flat on Ichigo's tongue. His eyes slowly widened and he immediately pounced over to his younger sister. He grabbed her roughly by the shoulder and spun her around so she was facing him. A light smirk was still present on her face as she glared up at him.

"Have you been having _sex_?" Ichigo bellowed, his eyes as wide and as menacing as his growling mouth.

"That depends," Karin retorted smartly, "Have _you_?"

"Don't even go there Karin!"

"I have a right to know!"

"It's my personal life! You do not have the right to know!"

"Well I have a right to my privacy as well! I'm twenty one years old! I'm sure by that time you'd lost _your_ virginity a thousand times!"

"You can only lose your virginity once Karin and you'd better still have yours! Who was it? I'll kill him!"

"Hypocrite!"

Ichigo was ready to open his mouth and continue screaming at his younger sister—as well as wrap his hands around her neck until she stopped being such a brat—when he stopped completely.

A light, tinkling sound was coming from beside him. Dubiously, Ichigo turned his head and set his intense stare on the person beside him on the picnic blanket.

Rukia had her hand to her mouth, pressed up against it tightly, and was shaking with laughter. Her eyes were shut and small tears were running down the sides. Her entire body was trembling softly as she moved to press a second hand to her face.

It was then that Ichigo looked over at his father and Yuzu. Both of them seemed to be in a state much like Rukia's. Their hands were covering their mouths, their bodies were trembling, and their eyes were clamped shut in silent laughter.

From behind him Karin smirked. "Gotcha Ichi-nii." She said in a sing-songy voice.

The four people around him burst out laughing while Ichigo sat in the midst of it all. Completely dumbfounded.

"What the hell," he started, looking between his father, his sisters, and his sex partner, "Is going on?"

Everyone around him just laughed. Ichigo fumed silently until they were all nearly finished. Actually, Rukia was the one to recover first. She grinned and shook her head slightly. She looked at him with a small sparkle in her eyes. "Damn your family is entertaining."

Ichigo just stared at her, his mind mesmerized by that tiny little twinkle.

Isshin chimed in as soon as he was finished howling in laugher. "Well then stick around, Rukia-chan because we get a lot better!"

Rukia just smiled at him. "I think I'd like that." She said, soft sincerity weaving into her voice.

Ichigo just looked at her. The twinkle in her eye had grown until it was nearly as intense as a star. He grinned gently but tried to hide it beneath his false sense of anger.

"_I think I'd like that."_

A statement like that should have made Ichigo cringe. Instead, it just made him smile.

**(A/N: Okie day, I hope everyone liked this chapter! I had fun writing it! :D**

**I also have something to say… ah, I put on the anonymous review thing as a courtesy to reviewers. I thought it would make it easier for people who didn't have an account on this site. However, if people flame my fic without leaving me an actual, **_**real,**_ **email address to respond to then I might just turn off the anonymous reviews. I mean, if someone flames me I'd like to speak to them properly and understand why they did it.**

**I believe it's just a common courtesy.**

**Anyway, that was my pet peeve for the day. But I still love everyone who likes my fic!!!**

**I HOPE EVERYONE ENJOYS THIS CHAPTER AND REVIEWS!!!)**


	27. Chapter 26

****

Disclaimer: I do not own Bleach or any Bleach affiliates.

Odalisque

Chapter 26

"I like your family," Rukia said casually as Ichigo plopped down beside her. She was sprawled out on the bed in a sensual fashion. Her elbows were beneath her and they were being used to prop her head up while her knees were slid slightly apart on the sheets. She had only a sheer, silk, cloth covering her luscious body from his view.

"Really?" He grunted as he set the tub of strawberry ice cream in between them and handing her a spoon.

She took it readily and waited for him to pry off the lid. "Yeah. I mean, they're just so… _alive_." She dug her spoon into the ice cream and made a show of swirling it around on her tongue before swallowing.

Ichigo settled into the bed even more and propped himself up against his headboard. He also put his spoon inside of the ice cream and began to eat.

"Of course they're alive," he told her ruefully, "None of them are buried six feet under."

"You know what I mean," she said, gentle reproach coloring her tone. She sighed and moved so that she was sitting against the headboard as well. Ichigo's eyes followed her as she went. She kept the sheet neatly folded near her breasts and he had to glower at that. Damn bitch was _purposefully_ being a tease. Her shoulder touched Ichigo's as she casually tucked a piece of her fly-away sex hair behind her ear. "They're not stoic. They have personalities. They make jokes, they laugh, they cry, yadda, yadda, yadda." She took another bite of ice cream and shook her head. "Not at all like my family."

Ichigo swallowed his cold treat and frowned. He was trying very hard to focus on this conversation and not the fact that Rukia was two inches away from him, naked except for a sheet. He took another bite of ice cream, hoping that the cold sensations would send a message down to his growing cock. "I thought you only had Byakuya." He managed to get out after swallowing again.

She shook her head and leaned into him a bit more, "Nah, he's just my _immediate_ family." She shook more hair out of her face and moved until the entire upper half of her body was lying against Ichigo's chest. Inside, he was jumping with joy. With a small smirk, he casually put his arm around her, his fingers dangerously close to her sheet-covered breasts.

_Just a little bit further…_ he thought patiently.

"If you count the rest of the Kuchiki Clan," she continued, unabashedly stroking her leg along the length of his. It seemed as though their thoughts were telepathically connected. "Then you've got at least one hundred individuals who were all taught to be anal retentive from the moment of conception."

"Gee I wonder how you were skipped," he muttered sarcastically.

She dug her heel into his shin and he yelped in pain. He shot her an evil glare but she seemed too nonchalantly focused on her ice cream to even bother looking back. "I was adopted, remember? I'm not of true Kuchiki _blood_."

"And blood is the only thing that matters, right?" He snorted, inching his hand down even more.

"Pretty much," she sighed and leaned in closer to his chest. "They all look at me like I'm beneath them." She continued, her voice dropping a few octaves while one of her hands came to rest on Ichigo's stomach. His skin burned pleasantly where she touched him and his erection began to make more of a reappearance. He knew she could see it pressing against the sheet. He stared at her hungrily while she pointedly took up another scoop of ice cream. "It's like… I'm not truly one of them, even though my brother is the head of the family, I hold the highest education of nearly all of my _cousins_," she used air quote to refer to her cousins, "And I've never once embarrassed any of them publically."

"Sounds like you're good as gold." Ichigo pressed, eager to have this conversation over with. He was already staring at her mouth. A drop of melting strawberry ice cream was on the edges and he just wanted to lick it off.

"But I'm still not _Kuchiki blood_." She employed the air quotes once again and scoffed, completely oblivious to the animalistic stare Ichigo was giving her. "I'm glad I wasn't born like one of those blue bloods. At least _I_ still have a sense of self."

Ichigo snorted and sent his hand in between them. He tugged the tub of ice cream up and set it aside. "If that's what you want to call it."

She shoved her heel into his shin again and he cringed. "Would you stop _doing_ that?" He hissed at her, the pain was distracting him from getting a full-on boner. If she wanted to come like she had been coming all night then she had better stop abusing him.

"Then you need to stop insulting me." She snapped back, shifting her body to the side.

Ichigo just turned his head to the side and scoffed. "Whatever… midget."

Rukia sent him a glare and sighed fitfully. With a small growl of annoyance, Rukia peeled Ichigo's arm away from her and let the sheet fall from her body. As though his ears were tuned for it, Ichigo heard the sheet hit the mattress and immediately looked over to Rukia, hunger evident in his face.

She raised an eyebrow as she moved to hover over him. His hands immediately came to her hips when she rose and straddled him. Her ass was now resting on the tops of his thighs and the sheet—which she had pushed away not a moment ago—was no longer there to hide his evident erection from her eyes.

Her fingers were on his shoulders. Her thumbs were rubbing into his skin gently. A grin formed on her lips and she raised an eyebrow, "Had other things on your mind, Kurosaki?"

"You could say that," he growled in a husky tone. His own thumbs were rubbing against her skin and his hands were inching backwards to grip the fleshy cheeks of her ass. He tugged her forward softly and groaned when he felt her wet heat pressing against the sides of his throbbing cock.

Rukia's face was only inches away from his. His breathing was becoming harder and hers was feathering over his face. She leaned forward softly and pressed her cheek against his. "You certainly don't waste any time." She whispered into his ear. Her hands slid down his arms and gripped his biceps, her fingers testing them and holding them just to feel their firmness.

"Not when I know what I want," Ichigo growled into her ear. He tugged her forward even more until her pussy was rubbing against him. The dripping wetness was driving him crazy. He wanted nothing more than to bury himself in her to the hilt and go completely numb with the type of mind blowing pleasure only _she_ could induce.

Rukia turned her head gently and pressed her lips to his. A groan ripped from her throat when his mouth opened under hers immediately. In an instant her hands were around his neck and her lips were parted over his.

Ichigo thought he might die. The lingering sensations of ice cream were present on her tongue, making it cold and slick against his own. He tilted his head to the side and raised one of his hands to grab the back of her head. Her flyaway locks were tangled in his fingers as he pushed her head towards his. She moaned and Ichigo could feel her growing even wetter against him.

She tasted like strawberries, Ichigo realized after a moment of furious battle. The flavor of the ice cream was powerful on her tongue and as they kissed it was the most potent of all tastes.

_She tastes like strawberries and champagne and sex_, Ichigo decided as he felt her grinding her body into his. Her pussy was above his cock, teasing him. He knew that all he had to do was push her back a bit and then he would be able to slide into her stubbornly tight center, but he just couldn't stop kissing her.

He tilted his head to the side and opened his mouth even more. There wasn't a single part of Rukia that was safe from his oral assault. He shuddered against her as she fought back with just as much enthusiasm. Her lips were playing tortuous tunes on his mouth, her hips were grinding mercilessly into his erection, and her fingers had left their haven in his hair and were now sliding down his chest.

He growled into her when he felt her fingers trace the lines of his pectorals. Her touch was light but insistent as she swirled her nails around his nipples. Her jerked into her when he felt her pinch them slightly. He found her smiling into the kiss only a moment later. Ichigo groaned again as she slid those wicked digits down his abdomen. Her nails scraped across the ridges that were made by his muscle and pink lines formed where ever she went.

Her hands disappeared for a minute but her mouth remained constant. Ichigo hungrily feasted on her lips while enjoying the pleasant taste of strawberries and sex on her tongue.

That was before something cold hit his chest.

"Shit!" He gasped, ripping his mouth away from hers in a single movement. His amber eyes connected with her liquid sapphire ones and his they widened. Desire was shining in her glimmering orbs but she was biting the lips on her panting mouth in order to keep her breathing under control. Ichigo's eyes slid down to her chest and he stared when he saw the rapid thumping of her heart against her breast.

It was only then that he noticed something was sliding down his chest. Tearing his eyes away from the seductress before him, Ichigo looked down. Not just something… _strawberry ice cream_ was sliding down his chest. He frowned softly when he saw the three distinct lumps of melting ice cream slowly begin to slide over to his pectorals and down to his abdomen.

"Rukia," he said, his own voice breathless. He slowly looked up at her and frowned. "What the hell—"

He didn't get to finish; in the next second Rukia's mouth was on him. Her face was pressed against his chest and her body was curved sensually against his. Her tiny pink tongue was dancing against his skin as she lapped up every bit of strawberry ice cream that was left to offer.

Ichigo couldn't think, he couldn't breathe, hell, he couldn't even see. He was just staring blankly out into space while Rukia Kuchiki licked ice cream off of his body. His skin was on fire where ever she touched. His mind was numb as he felt her fingers joining in the exploration. She massaged his sides while she continued to pleasure him with her tongue. The delicately rough pad of her tongue slid against his smooth skin, over the bumps and lines of old and new scars, over the erratic beating of his heart, and over the dips and grooves of his sternum.

She moved up to his neck and nibbled at his pulse, which he knew, must have been beating embarrassingly fast. He shuddered when she moved up to play with his earlobe and the sides of his jaw. Her lips were gently tugging at his skin while her hands were still sliding over every inch of his body.

Finally, her lips reached his and she kissed him hard. His stunned mind—barely comprehending what had just happened—only knew enough to kiss her back. Their tongues did furious battle and she moaned when his hands moved away from their position on her bruised hips and went up to grip her hair. One arm locked around her waist and pressed her chest against his. Her throbbing heartbeat matched his and he growled into her mouth.

Now he could taste strawberry ice cream, champagne, sex, and _him_ on her tongue. He could taste the essence of _his own skin_ inside of her mouth.

That thought alone made him harder than he had ever been in his life.

Without saying a single word Ichigo surged forward and rolled Rukia Kuchiki onto her back. A surprised squeak came from her mouth and she gasped when Ichigo hovered above her. His eyes were intensely hard on hers and he saw the shiver that it sent down her body. His jaw clenched and he slowly allowed a grin to appear on his face.

Rukia stared at him, her eyebrows furrowed softly, "Ichig—"

Whatever she had been about to say was abruptly cut off. She gasped hard and arched her back against his. He snickered lightly when he saw how wide her eyes became. He saw the perfect circular shape her mouth formed as she bent her head back in a silent gasp.

Ichigo, grinning ridiculously, turned his head down to her body and began to work. Her skin—her perfectly fragrant, milky white, gorgeous skin—was now covered in dripping strawberry ice cream. Her breasts—already treats in their own right—were now topped with the dripping pink cream. He hungrily swirled his tongue around her nipples, tasting her own unique flavor while the ice cream enhanced it almost to an unbearable level. Her hands moved up into his hair and gripped hard while breathy moans came from her throat.

Ichigo grinned and opened his mouth as wide as he could. His tongue ran over her entire chest, taking in lumps of ice cream as well as tiny trails that dripped down the sides of her body. She crooned and keened under him as he worked. He smoothed his way between her breasts—once he had left the offending mounds thoroughly suckled and abused—and came to the delicate dip of her hard stomach. He lapped up any juices that had taken refuge in her belly button and proceeded to smother her sides with wet, hot, open-mouthed kisses, just to catch any trails he might have missed.

She groaned his name and he smiled wickedly. One of his hands left her body and he felt along the sides of the bed. His searching fingers finally located the tub of ice cream and he tugged it towards them once again. Ichigo moved his head up her body and began to kiss her entire form. Nothing was left unexposed as he let his tongue explore her delicious curves.

He could hear her panting harder than ever as he swirled around her nipples with his tongue. The taunt peaks left nothing to the imagination as he sucked and lathed. Rukia's fingers in his hair were pulling tighter and tighter the longer he took. He grinned against her and finally readied himself for what he wanted to do.

Ichigo brought two of his fingers from where they had been resting inside of the ice cream and slowly slid them inside of her.

Rukia's entire body jerked off of the bed into an arch that would have impressed a yoga instructor. Her eyes shot open and her mouth divided to produce a wide, soul-stealing, gasp.

"_Shit!_ Ichigo!" She shrieked.

He was above her, his lips were pushing against hers, and his tongue was invading her mouth. Her eyes were still open wide as he slowly drove his cold fingers in and out of her tight channel. Her body was writhing and rocking underneath of his and her mouth tried as best as it could to respond to the growing urgency in him. Ichigo drove his fingers in and out of her body while his frozen thumb teased and flicked at her clit. Sweat rolled off of her body as he felt the pressure becoming far too much for her to handle.

After a few more minutes of torture Rukia ripped her mouth away from Ichigo's and screamed as an orgasm blasted through her entire body. Ichigo lifted himself above her so he could watch as her entire form convulsed around his fingers. Her pink-tinted skin puckered under him, her raven hair stuck to her forehead, and her eyes shut into tight, crinkling lines.

Ichigo pulled his constricted fingers out of her and waited until her breathing came back to normal. Her chest was heaving up and down with the force of her orgasm. Ichigo watched in hungry fascination as her breasts moved along with the irregularity of her breathing and her beating heart. Her mulberry peaks seemed to be tormenting him with their obvious sweetness.

His eyes finally roved back up to her face. She was staring at him through half-lidded, lust-filled, shining eyes. Her mouth was open and her swollen lips trembled as she attempted to breathe normally.

Ichigo just grinned at her and held his strawberry and juice covered fingers over her, as if to display them like a trophy.

Rukia simply stared at him. She took a few more breaths before swallowing and saying hoarsely, "You had better not put those back in the ice cream."

Ichigo didn't answer. Instead, he simply smirked and brought his fingers to his mouth. He heard her breath catch as she watched him slowly lick off every bit of juice from his coated fingers. Ichigo's tongue swirled around the base, the shaft, and the tips of his fingers. He closed his eyes while enjoying the scintillating taste of Rukia and strawberries.

When he was finished he looked back down at her and grinned at her disbelieving expression, "Delicious," he whispered.

That was the only word he said before thrusting into her completely.

Rukia didn't even have time to try and stop the scream that came from her mouth. Her arms immediately came around his shoulders and her legs hooked around his back. She cursed liberally as he withdrew and thrust back inside with the strength of a wild animal.

Sweat beaded on Ichigo's forehead as he pushed himself further and further inside of her. He could feel the tip of his cock hitting her cervix walls and inwardly congratulated himself. Rukia was alternately panting and screaming against him as he pummeled her tight center. Wildly, he brought his face down to hers and captured her lips in a kiss. He could still taste her juices on his own tongue so he knew that she could taste them as well. Her body clenched around him as he pushed his mouth against hers. Her tight walls were gripping him, massaging him; her wetness was making it nearly impossible to keep going.

Rukia shrieked into him and came again, this time around his cock. Ichigo, feeling her inner walls collapsing, was no longer able to contain the pressure that was building inside of him. With a roar of satisfaction, he emptied himself into her.

He stayed above her for a few more minutes. Thrusting erratically until he was damn positive that Rukia had sucked all of the energy out of his body. With a groan, he pulled himself out of her, rolled over, and flopped to the side.

Rukia was lying on her back, completely focused on getting her lungs to work properly. Ichigo crawled over to her and placed his face in the crook of her shoulder and neck. He pressed a delicate kiss into her collarbone and tried not to pass out like some weak first-timer.

It took him nearly ten minutes to finally get his heart rate back under control. He blearily looked over at Rukia and saw that she had turned her face towards him. He blinked and raised one eyebrow.

She looked at him, leaned forward, and whispered into his ear, "We are _so_ trying chocolate syrup next time."

*~*~*

Rukia hummed softly while she put her food tray next to Momo's. The young woman already sitting at the table chewed softly on her lettuce leaf before raising an eyebrow and putting her fork down.

A small grin played on Rukia's face as she leaned slightly into her chair and began to swirl her finger into her pudding. A dreamy, far-off, look covered most of Rukia's face and every now and then a small giggle would escape her mouth. She sighed contentedly and plopped her pudding-covered finger into her mouth. Her tongue swirled around it for a moment, licking up every piece of chocolate before she sighed again and absentmindedly picked at her food.

Momo, of course, watched all of this in growing horror.

"Who are you and what have you done with Rukia Kuchiki?" She gasped, her body stiff in her chair and her fingers digging into the table.

Rukia let her hazy eyes wander over to Momo's face. "Hm?" She giggled, "Did you say something?"

The sharp gasp could be heard throughout the entire cafeteria. Momo's face was nearly entirely white, her eyes were wide, and her mouth was open in horror.

Rukia just grinned, her eyes darted back and forth around the cafeteria before she slowly brought out one pointer finger and motioned for Momo to come closer. The woman leaned forward instantly and stared at her hungrily. Rukia hunched over the table until her nose was only a few inches away from Momo's. She grinned wickedly and sniggered, "Strawberry _ice_ cream."

Momo's mouth dropped open and several choking noises echoed from her throat. "As in," she whispered hoarsely, "You ate it in _bed_?"

Rukia's smiling lips were pursed together and she smothered a silent laugh. "More like…" she paused for a moment and brushed a stray lock of hair out of her face, it was down today, free of its usual constricting ponytail. "We ate the ice cream… then _I_ ate the ice cream off of _his_ body and he ate the ice cream off of _my_ body, then he put the ice cream _inside_ my body and proceeded to lick it off of his fingers… after I came."

There was silence between the two. Rukia stared out into space and Momo tried to keep her face from blossoming into a full-on blush.

"Oh sweet Jesus I think _I've_ just come." Momo rasped after another moment of quiet.

"It was," Rukia continued, choosing to ignore Momo's comment, "The single most erotic experience of my life." She flashed Momo a quick grin and then groaned softly, "He said he wanted to try whip cream next time. _Whip cream_ Momo! And of course I want to know what he tastes like with chocolate syrup so—" She broke off and just sighed. Her elbow came to rest on the table and she placed her head in the palm of her hand. "So… _sexy_…"

"Oh. My. God."

"I know," Rukia sighed, completely lost in her own fantasy world, "I know…"

Momo just stared at her in complete disbelief.

*~*~*

Momo walked down the hallway in a daze.

Nearly a week had passed since Rukia had told Momo of the strawberry ice cream flavored sex. Nearly a week and she still couldn't believe it. She just couldn't seem to get over the fact that Rukia—Rukia Kuchiki, one of the worst prudes she had ever met—had actually had sex with a man and really allowed him to put strawberry ice cream into her you-know-what.

Rukia _Kuchiki_.

The woman who, when Momo suggested they go vacationing in Spain during one of their spring breaks in college, would not go because she didn't want to happen across a nude beach. Even though Momo had told her that she only wanted to stay in the mainland. The woman who, even after years of gym class in high school with the same people, still refused to undress unless she was inside of a bathroom stall.

_That_ Rukia Kuchiki.

What was even worse was the fact that now Momo was even slightly _jealous_ of the over-active sex life Rukia was currently enjoying.

Not that she didn't have copious amounts of sex with Toshiro all the time—and it was always good—she just didn't have sex the way Rukia had sex. When she and Toshiro had sex they more or less made love. It could start out wild but it always ended in a tame, loving, beautiful, and satisfying way. Toshiro always made sure that she came before himself so that she could have a longer and better experience. He always made sure to caress her and to love her and to whisper things in her ear. All in all, it was gorgeous, heartfelt, wonderful sex.

But Rukia's definition of sex…

Momo bit her bottom lip as she thought about a conversation she had entertained with Rukia a while back. Rukia had come to lunch with a small scratch on her bottom lip. Momo, being who she was, demanded to know where it had come from. Rukia's knowing smile had said it all but she proceeded to tell her best friend anyway.

_  
"He was so wild last night," she whispered, her voice no louder than the buzzing of a fly's wing. "The minute I came inside the door he was on me. He ripped off my clothes, hurled on the couch, and fucked me senseless."_

_Momo's mouth quivered as she tried to contain the growing width of her eye sockets._

"_Then he threw me against the wall," Rukia continued, staring off into space and completely ignoring her friend's bewildered stare, "He pinned my arms over my head and… and… Christ Momo, he fucked me even harder."_

_Momo's skin tingled at the description but she kept that bit of knowledge to herself._

"_And finally," Rukia said, exhaling a breath and finally willing a small blush to come onto her cheeks, "We got into the bedroom. That was when he bit me."_

Momo shuddered at the recollection. What Rukia and Ichigo had was something… wild. It was animalistic. It was raw. Hell, she wondered if it could even be considered _human_. It was just so… primal. Their sex was all about finding a need and fulfilling it at whatever extent necessary.

Momo groaned and pressed a hand to her forehead. She wondered if, sometime in the future, she and Toshiro would have nights like that. Nights when it was just so wild between the two of them that _she'd_ be the one to end up with a limp the next day.

She doubted it… but it could happen.

She moved down the hallway a bit and began walking towards the exit. Her weary steps plugged on and she smiled when she thought of what she would do when she got home. Maybe a bubble bath, a bit of scented lotion, and of course she'd consume those test cakes that the baker had sent over for her to try. Momo smiled on the inside. Her wedding was only four months away. Four puny little months. Once again she held up her left hand and stared at her ring. It was becoming a habit of hers nowadays.

It was just so _shiny_.

"Miss Hinamori!"

Momo blinked at the sound of her name—for a minute it sounded odd, for the past few months she had been practicing saying 'Momo Hitsugaya'—and slowly turned around. Her eyebrows went up towards her hairline and her jaw went a bit slack when she saw Rukia's boss hurrying towards her.

"Mr. Aizen," she breathed, the feeling of heat flushing up her neck once again.

_Oh no… _she groaned inside, _why did he have to come over here? He's the president of a multibillion dollar company! Surely he has better things to do!_

He kept on coming closer and Momo fought the urge to shake her head. Apparently, this man never had anything to do. Why else would he come and talk to her… again?

The blush continued on her face and she prayed to any god that it would go away. Hurriedly, she began to think of better things; of bubble baths, rings, cake, and her fiancé. She tried to ignore the fact that Rukia's boss was now only a few feet away from her.

"Miss Hinamori," he said, coming up to her completely. Momo's eyes slid over to his and then jerked away. He was panting lightly from the semi-jog that he had taken in order to get over to her. It only made his already charming face even handsomer. He stopped only a foot away from her and Momo took it upon herself to step back—just a little. His hands fiddled at his sides as he grinned and said, "It's so nice to see you again."

Momo breathing came a bit quicker as she gritted her teeth and smiled up at her best friend's boss.

Oh damn was he handsome… kind of in that older guy, established, refined-yet-boyish kind of way. His light brown hair—speckled with bits of gray—fluffed around his face while his bright eyes glimmered in the lights from above. His thick black glasses gave his face a nerdy feel while his apple cheeks defined his playful spirit. Momo couldn't help but stare at the man a few seconds longer than she should have.

_Well, _she reasoned desperately, fighting a battle with her own conscious, _who wouldn't? The man is rather attractive… and just because I say that doesn't mean anything! I'm just stating a damn fact!_

Although, if she were forced to be completely and utterly honest, she knew that right now she was lying to herself.

Her eyes stayed pinned on Mr. Aizen's face as she thought back to the day she had eaten lunch with him.

"_Miss Hinamori!"_

_Momo looked up from the sea of dining people and immediately spotted Sosuke Aizen. He was sitting at a charming table covered in a delicate white cloth near the center of the very bourgeoisie restaurant. As always he looked fantastic. His hair had a slightly rumpled look and his face was ready with a smile. His suit looked expensive and pressed and his glasses were playfully slipping down his nose. Momo felt her traitorous heart speed up just a bit and she immediately placed a mental picture of Toshiro inside of her brain. She raised her hand as well to signal that she had seen him and immediately began walking. Her heels meshed into the soft carpet as she strode confidently._

"_Mr. Aizen," she said, a smile was on her face and her hand was reaching up to her shoulder to pull her purse away. "It's wonderful to see you again."_

"_Please," he said and Momo stopped moving. She looked up and saw his eyes boring intense holes into hers. Her hand froze on her shoulder. "Today, call me Sosuke. It's refreshing to hear my first name every now and again." Once again his eyes had that twinkling effect, "Being called Mr. Aizen by everyone who's anyone gets a bit tiring after a while."_

_Momo had to fight for a minute to dislodge her voice from her throat. When she did she ducked her head down just a bit in order to hide her flaming cheeks and hurriedly sat down in her chair. "Alright then… Sosuke…" she paused for a moment before her head shot up and she frowned at him. "But if I have to go through with calling you Sosuke then you have to call me Momo." She raised an eyebrow and—for some reason she still couldn't figure out—brought her hand out from where it sat on her lap and held it across the table. A peace offering for him._

_A politely bewildered expression crossed Sosuke's face before he looked up at her, looked down at her hand, and then looked back up. A grin broke out across his face and a light chuckle escaped his throat. With sure movements he pulled his own hand out from under the table and grasped Momo's fingers. She had to fight through another sputtering heartbeat when she felt his warm fingers wrapping around hers._

"_It's a deal then."_

"_Excellent." Momo said, her voice just slightly breathless._

"_So," Sosuke sat back in his seat and picked up his menu even though his eyes were still staring into hers. "Order anything you like. I hear the fish at this restaurant is wonderful."_

"_If you say so," Momo said, hardly daring to blink lest she break the spell this man seemed to have over her._

_Sosuke looked away first. When he did Momo was still left staring at him. His gray flecked hair, his blushing face, his thick glasses, and his sparkling eyes._

Oh Jesus Christ what the fuck am I doing?_ She moaned inwardly as she resisted the urge to put a hand on her forehead to check and see if she had a fever._

_Minutes ticked by and Momo fastidiously buried herself with her menu as she attempted to think of something—anything—other than the man sitting across from her. She also wanted to try and figure out why in the world she would be acting like such a whimsical schoolgirl around this man when she was getting married in less than four months!_

_As of yet she still couldn't find an answer._

"_I'll have the mahi mahi," Sosuke said to the pretty waitress when she came by for their order. He looked over at her and smiled charmingly, "And yourself, Momo?"_

"_I'll have the same," she choked out. For some reason, the way he said her name made her heart speed up just a bit more._

_The waitress took their menus away and Sosuke gently placed his elbows on the table, folding his hands so they would lace near his chin, and after a moment he placed his strong chin on top of his fingers. Momo felt her insides tighten with both a strange sensation of yearning and fear._

_The fear came into play because of the yearning._

_They chatted while they waited for their food to arrive. The weather, the restaurant, and recent events in the news; not once did he mention the fact that she had a fiancé._

_But to be fair, neither did Momo._

_All throughout their conversation Sosuke was eagerly seated. He leaned forward slightly and watched her intensely as she spoke. It was if he didn't want to miss a single word she was saying._

_After nearly forty five minutes of sparkling conversation, laughter, intelligent quotes, and delicious food, Momo suddenly remembered the reason she had agreed to the meeting in the first place._

"_Oh!" She squeaked, dabbing her napkin lightly to her lips as was proper, "I forgot, you wanted to talk about recruiting a new secretary, didn't you Sosuke?" She was surprised at how fluently his name came off of her tongue. It seemed as though it was just supposed to be… _there.

_Sosuke blinked to a start and jerked back in his chair a bit. His expression was one of shock and disbelief. "I did… didn't I?" He looked up at his watch and let his strong jaw drop a bit. "Oh my goodness, I didn't realize…" his chocolate eyes looked up at Momo through his lashes and she felt her stomach tie itself in knots._

_There was a soft silence between the two of them. Momo was simply staring into the vast expanse of Sosuke's eyes. His irises were blacker than black and there were small rings of amber around the dark dots. The twisting in her stomach became tighter when she saw the corners of his mouth lift up into a small smile._

"_You… you… wouldn't happen to be available… would you?"_

_One thousand thoughts were running through Momo's mind all at once. She didn't even think she was breathing properly._

_What would Rukia think of this? Why was she actually considering this? What would Toshiro think if she took this? Was it a promotion? Would she be paid more? Would this feeling she got whenever Sosuke looked at her expand into something more? Would some sort of elicit relationship happen? What about her wedding? Would she start to doubt her feelings if she actually said yes? What if… what if…_

"_I… I…"she mumbled, her face becoming redder and redder the longer she hesitated. Sosuke was staring at her as though she was the only thing in the world to stare at._

_Momo's heart was racing faster than it had ever beaten in her life. She swallowed hard and fisted her hands in her lap._

"_I'll have to… to che-check with R-Rukia." She gasped out, she averted her eyes from Sosuke and stared down at the remnants of her lunch._

_Even though she wasn't looking at him she could hear the audible sigh that practically permeated the entire restaurant._

_Momo didn't dare look up. She knew her face was as red as a fire engine._

"_I see… you still technically work for Miss Kuchiki."_

"_I do." Momo mumbled, her voice low and, surprisingly enough, thick with emotion. "And I just assumed that I'd keep working for her."_

_There was a pause between them during which time Momo's face became even redder and her stomach twisted even harder._

_Then Sosuke raised his head and placed his hands on the table. Both of them were clenched into fists. "But if… no."_

_Momo's head shot up and she, unwittingly, placed her own hands onto the table. She could feel the proximity of his fingers but didn't bother to take them away. His flesh seemed to be radiating heat as she stayed near him._

_She swallowed hard and looked at him intently. "But… what?"_

_His eyes were downcast and his cheeks were tinged red. She couldn't believe how cute he looked against the charming backdrop of a beautifully quaint restaurant. His eyes flicked up and then nervously back to the table. Momo's heart twanged as she stared on. He looked like a frightened child._

"_But if… Rukia gets a top… and I mean _top _position… where she wouldn't need just one secretary… would you consider being… mine?"_

_Momo's breath caught in her throat. She couldn't seem to breathe. Her eyes were wide in her head. Her mouth was open slightly. Air was attempting to traverse the closed path of her throat._

"_Yes."_

_The breathless reply was out of her mouth before she could even think twice about it._

_Afterwards, when she was in bed at night, sleeping beside her fiancé, she just couldn't get the image of a smiling Sosuke Aizen out of her head._

Momo was jerked harshly back to the present with a warm, soft, hand on her shoulder. It nudged her gently back and forth before she finally glanced up. Her face immediately colored and she tried to thrust it away. But once her eyes were caught in that chocolate-amber gaze she was lost.

Fucking lost.

"I—I—" she stuttered, her hands clutched her purse to the top of her stomach and her knees started to quake. She swallowed hard and tried to keep her heart from imploding. "Mr. Aizen!" She ended up squeaking, keeping her eyes zeroed in on her nose, "H-How nice to see you… a-again!"

She dared to look up into his eyes and found evident disappointment in his beautiful irises. She shook lightly and she knew that he could feel it through the clothing on her shoulder. She could tell that the aversion she had to his first name was now… was it… _hurting_ him? Her breath caught in her throat as she continued to stare.

He released her shoulder after allowing his thumb to gently slide over the material of her jacket. He took a step back and let his head droop slightly.

"Miss Hinamori," he said; his voice was so quiet, she wondered if what she had said affected him so much. "I was wondering…" he raised his head and looked directly into her eyes; Momo could feel herself melting from the inside. "If you would accompany me for a cup of coffee?" He finished his sentence in a whisper.

If Momo had been a weaker person she would have swooned.

She nodded her head and swallowed hard. "Yes," she answered just as breathlessly. "Sure… if you want me to."

"I do," he answered as quickly as was possible, his stare became even brighter, it seemed as though he was looking into her very soul. "Want you…"

The tightening in her stomach came to the point of complete and painful constriction. Momo's throat ceased to be able to work properly but at this moment she didn't even care. She just stared up at him and nodded mutely. Mr. Aizen—_no,_ she told herself sharply, _for now his name is Sosuke. For now… you can call him Sosuke._

She drew in a large breath through her nose. She could smell his manly aftershave along with that crisp, boyish, playful scent… it was wonderful.

They exited the large building together.

Momo felt her arm brush against Sosuke's. She looked up at him in blushing adoration and then turned her head away when he glanced down at her as well. Neither one of them moved any further apart from each other. In the back of her mind she saw a faint glimmer of Toshiro's face.

She pushed it away and continued walking.

**(A/N: Well now, things seem to be heating up around here! Giggle! I thought I'd give you something to chew on today (other than a Thanksgiving turkey) so here you go!**

**HAPPY THANKSGIVING EVERYONE!!!**

**PLEASE DON'T FORGET TO REVIEW!!!**

**Important Side Note:**

**Dear Readers,**

**I have created two polls on my profile page and I would honestly like people to answer them. They're short and it will take you maybe one minute, tops. However, the polls are in regards to "flaming." The other day I had a loyal reader inform me that someone was blasting (and I mean really blasting) my fic behind my back on a site I visit maybe once every three months. When I confronted said person we got into a rather heated debate. Said person said it was none of my business what she/he said or not whereas I disagreed, as it was my fic that was being attacked. In short, I ended it with a rather terse apology but am still conflicted on the matter. The polls would help me to understand your thoughts on the matter and I would truly appreciate your opinion. Think of it as helping my with a sociology project! :D**

**Thanks!**

**Tituba.)**


	28. Chapter 27

**Disclaimer: I do not own Bleach or any Bleach affiliates.**

_**Odalisque**_

**Chapter 27**

Renji Abarai ran a hand through his hair and growled.

In one swift move he swiveled around in his chair and glowered at the man sitting a few feet away from him, one of his coworkers, Ikkaku Madarame. Renji's eyes stuck to the bald man's head like chewing gum on a sidewalk for several long, arduous minutes.

He watched in satisfaction as the bright skull he was currently examining began to grow redder and redder until finally it was the perfect shade to match that of a crimson crayon.

"What do you want, Abarai?" He growled furiously, jerking his head up and thrusting his pen onto the pile of paperwork on his desk.

Renji managed to keep his smug grin inside and maintain his scowl of frustration. Although he couldn't help but allow one part of his mouth to inch up. What could he say? It was fun to torment that egg-headed, war-mongering buffoon. And besides, he was frustrated, he needed to take it out on someone. Or… at least _talk _to someone.

"How can someone," he began, his voice a few decibels lower than normal, "Shoot a man in broad daylight, in the middle of a crowded street, and get away with it?"

Ikkaku narrowed his eyes and allowed a wicked smirk to appear on his face. "You really want me to answer that, _detective_?"

"It was a rhetorical question dumbass."

"Well, well, well…" he crooned, his enjoyment growing by the second, "So even the great Renji Abarai gets stumped by a case. Bravo."

"Shove it Ikkaku," he snapped back. "I'm not _stumped_, I just don't have enough evidence."

"Did you find where the rifle was fired?"

"Rooftop."

"What kind of weapon it was?"

"Sniper."

"Have you gone through the purchasing records?"

"For a sniper rifle? No shit! Of course I have!" Renji snapped, his fist coming down hard on his desk, creating a fissure an inch or two long. "What do you think I am? Some kind of fresh-out-of-the-academy greenie?"

"You're sure pissing and moaning like one," Ikkaku pointed out nastily, scribbling his name onto a piece of paper.

"Kiss my ass, Madarame," he seethed and went back to his own papers, his own crime scene photos, and his own personal torment. "Christ, you ask a guy for his opinion…"

There was silence for a moment before Ikkaku heaved a sigh and his chair squeaked. Renji looked up and glowered at the man. He was reclining in his uncomfortable seat and had his arms behind his head. As Renji moved his eyes up he was nearly startled by the amount of gravity displayed in Ikkaku's gaze. The man was staring off into space, his face pinched, his eyes narrowed, and his bald head gleaming.

"Shot in broad daylight." He murmured.

"Yeah," Renji answered, finally glad to have some sort of conversation going.

"So…" Ikkaku muttered, "This guy, the one who probably shot your vic… I'd have to say he didn't care much for being caught."

"I've gone over that aspect." Renji butted in instantly. "By his actions—you know, the whole broad daylight thing—I'm guessing this guy, whoever he is, _knew_ that he was a good enough sniper that it wouldn't matter what time he did the deed. He knew that was _so_ good that even if we found his firing place he'd cover his tracks so well that we'd never be able to find him."

"I hate it when killers are too clean," Ikkaku muttered nastily, picking at a scratch in the table.

Renji nodded, "Tell me about it."

The two lapsed into silence for a few moments, both busy with their respective thoughts. Renji's mind, however, instead of staying completely focused on the task at hand, kept swirling into the study of the cases victim: Byakuya Kuchiki.

Then, of course, his mind would immediately go to someone else… someone he shouldn't have been thinking about… someone who shouldn't have been anywhere in his mind…

Rukia Kuchiki.

Renji sighed and tried to force his latest picture of her out of his mind. Rukia in a business suit wearing a torn pair of pantyhose, feet bare, and having one of the most devastated expressions he had ever seen playing right across her face.

Renji swallowed and forced that image away. He dug his hands into the pile of papers in front of him and tried vainly to focus on the crime scene statistics and elements that would help him solve the case.

He just wished that he could—

"Hey Abarai…"

Renji jerked his head up and immediately banished all thoughts of Rukia Kuchiki from his mind. "Yeah?" He grunted, his voice scratching lightly against his throat.

"Do you think the sniper could have been working for someone?" Ikkaku mused as he twirled his pen between his fingers. "I mean… the guy was good. Damn good. And Byakuya Kuchiki is a powerful man. Maybe someone else wanted him taken care of so they hired a profession to do it." Ikkaku turned his head to his fellow detective and raised one thin eyebrow. "After all, this guy was a professional. I'm betting that if anyone had a grudge against Kuchiki because they were fired or for personal reasons… I don't think they'd be this meticulous in trying to get rid of him."

Renji blinked once.

_Light bulb, thy switch is on._

"Ikkaku…" he breathed, "I think you're right."

He smirked, "Now I just need to get you to put that in writing."

Renji immediately pulled out his notepad and began jotting down ideas about what other motives might be behind the attempted murder of Byakuya Kuchiki.

He had been writing for nearly ten minutes before he heard Ikkaku sigh and shift in his seat again.

"Damn man, you've been working on this case for nearly two months straight. I mean, you don't think about anything else. I see you in here in the morning and late at night. I even think you sleep here sometimes," he turned his fantastically shiny head towards Renji and narrowed his eyes. "Just what is it about this case that makes you want to solve it so badly?"

Renji's mouth just curled into a smile and he reached over to pick up his office phone. He dialed a few numbers and waited for the woman to pick up.

"Yes, Detective Renji Abarai for Rukia Kuchiki please," he said, his voice as clear as a bell and his eyes averted from Ikkaku's.

Ikkaku Madarame raised an eyebrow, rolled his eyes, and muttered, "A woman… of course."

*~*~*

Rukia's phone rang beside her desk and she frowned softly, ignoring the piercing ringing. All of her attention was focused on the paper in front of her… something was just not right with these numbers…

She groaned softly and placed her thumb and pointer finger on the bridge of her nose, rubbing the tender flesh delicately. Her tired brain was not working properly. It was Monday and she only had so much energy left from an entire weekend spent cooped up in Ichigo's apartment, experimenting with whip cream, chocolate syrup, and more ice cream. Rukia shuddered softly at the memory of it all. Nearly two and a half days of constant, nonstop, erotic, mind-blowing, sex… no sleep… no rest… mouths never stopping… hips always thrusting…

Rukia had to fight not to let out a small moan and rub her thighs together in order to alleviate some of the pressure.

Beside her the phone kept screaming.

A sigh came from across the entire office. "You gonna get that or let it ring?" Ichigo grunted, rubbing the bottom of his face with his hand. She glanced over at him and found that he was staring at her with eyes heavy with lack of sleep. He glanced over at her and after a moment of staring a slow smile inched over his face. His eyes inched over the entirety of her body that he could see. His grin grew larger and larger with every passing millisecond.

Rukia, smiling herself, did the exact same.

The peals continued and she reluctantly turned her head away from her lover's inquisitive eyes. She glowered softly at it and wrinkled her nose evilly. Sighing, she picked up the receiver.

"Rukia Kuchiki speaking," she said, her voice crisp and clear and her eyes still glued to Ichigo. He was grinning at her like he was undressing her with his eyes. She liked it.

"Rukia?"

At the sound of the voice on the other line Rukia peeled her gaze away from her lover's and blinked twice. She swiftly shot a glance down at the number on her phone and raised an eyebrow.

"Renji?" She questioned, "Is this Renji?"

"In the flesh… well, I would be, if you could actually—ah—see me." He muttered, stammering slightly.

Rukia chuckled lightly and twirled around in her seat so the back of her massive chair was facing Ichigo. She didn't notice the look his face took on or the slight lean that his body made over his desk at the sound of Renji's name. She simply chuckled and twirled the phone cord around her pointer finger.

"How has everything been going?" She sighed, her tired voice permeating the phone as she spoke with her old friend. "How's life… people, work, random pets you may have taken in… in…" Her voice faded into the back of her throat as she realized why he might be calling.

Her voice became low and cold, a total opposite from the welcoming warmth she had exuded only seconds ago. "Renji… do you have any information on who shot my brother?"

"Yes and no," he said, his voice scratching lightly from the other line. "Well, actually, there two things that I wanted to share with you."

"Go on," Rukia demanded, her body stiff inside of her chair.

"Alright," Renji cleared his throat and sighed, "As of yet there are no leads into who shot your brother."

The breath that Rukia had been holding in was exhaled in one swift groan. "Please tell me you're lying," she moaned, pressing her hand onto her forehead. "But it's nearly been a month! How can there not be anything?"

"Rukia…" it sounded as though Renji was attempting to make his voice sound as cautionary as possible. "Listen… I've been a detective for nearly four years, I know it might not sound like a lot but… damn Rukia, this guy was good. I mean _really _good. He's got the entire police force looking like idiots because we can't find out who shot your brother _in broad daylight_."

A chill ran down Rukia's spine when she thought of that horrid day. The panic she had felt, the anger, and all of that _blood._ Christ there had been so much of it.

She nodded softly and—once she realized that Renji could not, in fact, hear a nod over the phone—let out a strangled, "I understand." The words rasped from her throat and she cleared it quietly. "You're doing your best… I know that."

"Alright… however, in spite of all that I wanted you to know that we're making headway. I won't let this go Rukia. I promise. I mean, even today I thought of a few things that could help." There was a soft pause over the phone and Rukia heard Renji shift in his creaky chair.

Rukia pursed her lips, "What are they?" She demanded.

Renji paused and he sighed, "I'd rather not tell you until I have some concrete evidence to back it up. I… don't want to get your hopes up."

Silence crackled over the phone and Rukia sighed. The quiet had lasted for almost a whole minute before she frowned and raised an eyebrow.

"There was something else," Rukia prompted when Renji still didn't say a word, "Something else you wanted to tell me?"

"Oh!" His voice sounded flustered and strained, he cleared his throat softly and Rukia wondered just what it is he could be asking her about. "I was… ah… just wondering if you'd like to see a movie on Wednesday."

Rukia blinked. "A what?"

"A, ah, movie? Would you like to go see a movie with me this Friday? I hear there's a really good samurai flick out. We could, ah, check it out."

Rukia sat back in her chair and looked incredulously at the phone. Wondering if she had just heard Renji correctly. Of course, the question of _why _was on the tip of Rukia's tongue but after a minute of thought she shoved it down as fast as she could.

This was Renji she was talking to… Renji! Her second best friend in the entire world. They had grown up together, they had played at the same streams, they had thrown frogs at each other, they had suffered through school together, and in all fairness, Renji was her very first protector in this very large world.

A wave of guilt washed over Rukia's entire body as she thought of what she had just been about to tell him on the phone. She had been such a terrible friend over the past few years. Hell, once she went to college and he went to the police academy she barely contacted him outside of sending the odd birthday and Christmas card. She had practically _ignored_ Renji for the last half decade. After everything they had gone through as children she just tossed him aside like a used tissue. The guilt in her stomach increased until she nearly felt sick from it.

"A movie?" She ended up croaking out; the guilt in her voice was keeping her from using a more definitive tone.

"Yeah… and if you want we can go out to dinner before." He ended up coughing into the phone and Rukia cringed at the sharp sound.

"I—I guess so," she said, biting her bottom lip and hoping that Ichigo didn't have any plans for her on Friday.

_Wait… why would you think like that?_ Her brain spurted angrily. _Ichigo doesn't control your life. Remember the deal? It's sex with no strings, whenever you two want it. If you're busy then he just has to deal with it!_

The sharp, biting, voice inside of her head gnawed angrily on the outer fringes of her conscious and Rukia wrinkled her nose. She had to admit though, her brain did have a point.

Why shouldn't she have a day with Renji? She hadn't seen him—really spent some time with him—in nearly five years. Catching up with him would be fantastic. Really, he deserved it too; he was probably working double time to find her brother's shooter. Although it was technically his job to do so that didn't mean she couldn't give him a break.

"Yeah," she said, her voice taking on a new fortitude that it hadn't exhibited a moment ago, "I'd like that, Renji. We need to catch up." She reached across her desk and pulled out a post-it note and a pen. "What time do you want to meet and, for that matter, _where_ do you want to meet?"

Renji, when he answered, sounded like he had just won the lottery, "Awesome! How about we meet at that bistro down the street from the police station at about six. We'll eat and then go see a movie at about seven. Sound good?"

"Sure does," she scribbled the information down onto the pad and clicked the pen shut, "I'll see you then."

"Right, see you then." Renji's voice cut off as Rukia placed the phone back onto the holder.

A small grin appeared on her face as she thought of the night she'd have with her best friend—well, best male friend anyway, Momo would take offense to being a second anything. It would be really nice to talk to Renji just about, well… about life.

"Going somewhere?"

Rukia's head snapped up to Ichigo and she smirked softly, images of last night flipping through her head as though she was looking through a photo album. She turned her face back to her desk and began to rifle through more papers. "Yes," she replied as she kept a small shudder away from her body. "On Friday I'm going to go see a movie with my friend, Renji."

"The cop?"

"The detective, yes."

A terse silence followed that one statement. It was then that Rukia finally glanced up and really, truly, looked at Ichigo.

His eyes were boring hotly into hers, his mouth was set into a rigid line, his eyebrows were curled downward in intensely angry curves, his shoulders were set back in tight lines, she could see his muscles flexing from under his suit, and his hands… his hands were gripping objects on his desk. The fingers on his left hand were curled into the armrest of his chair—where he was currently digging grooves into the poor, inanimate object—while his other hand was holding a now bent ballpoint pen.

She blinked twice and then frowned, "What's your problem?"

Ichigo's lips curled as he growled softly. Her spine stiffened slightly as she heard that threatening sound and she sat back a bit in her chair, studying his countenance even further. "I don't have a problem." He snapped and swiveled back into his chair so that he wasn't facing her.

Rukia narrowed her eyes at him and pointed out, "You sound like there's something wrong with you."

"And you would know, wouldn't you?" He shot back, punching a few keys in the keyboard.

For some reason his words stung Rukia. She relaxed her spine a bit but tightened her jaw. He _was_ upset. She knew that much by looking at him. She just didn't know why he acting like such as ass when she was just trying to figure out what was wrong with him. It wasn't like she was intruding onto some really private part of his life. After all, she'd like to think that she knew him well enough. She could tell when he was horny from about a mile away.

"Fine," she spat back, "Then nothing's wrong with you. Sorry for asking."

She huffed and turned back to her computer. There was a tense and nearly unbearable silence between them for the rest of the day.

Even so, Rukia didn't see Ichigo glance up and give her the most painfully inscrutable look she had ever received. He simply turned away and tried to focus on work.

*~*~*

"Fuck… shit… damn it…."

Ichigo was cold. Ichigo was wet. Ichigo was cold _and_ he was wet.

He didn't care though. He glanced down at his wristwatch and scoffed softly at the numbers that gleamed up into his darkened face. The misting rainwater that was falling all around the alcove he was standing under was reflecting onto its glassy surface.

It was six forty two.

His teeth clenched together as he stood outside. His back against the wall, he once again shot a deadly glare to the teenage boy sitting behind the ticket booth at the movie theater. The boy's eyes widened in annoyance and Ichigo just continued to glare. The kid's eyes rolled and he moved them back over to the elderly couple he was handing a pair of tickets to.

Ichigo just stuffed his hands into his pockets and continued leaning against the cold wall.

Barely two minutes later he raised his watch to his face and examined the tiny numbers once again. The face of his Rolex blinked back at him as he watched the tiny seconds hand slip up the face.

He rolled his eyes up to the top of his head and wondered if he had remembered what Rukia had said. That cop, Renji, had called on Monday, right? He distinctly remembered her saying that they were going to be meeting on Friday.

_Yeah, _Ichigo muttered inwardly, _meeting for dinner and a… _movie_._

Ichigo looked at his watch once again—the damn thing had barely moved a nanometer—and sighed in exasperation. He shook his head once again before he stilled. A shot of fear raced through his stomach. His head shot up and he glared at the titles of the movies to choose from. Had he gotten the movie theater right? He might have had the time but what if the two had decided to not go this particular movie theater?

Ichigo ran his hand through his unruly mop of hair and snarled, forcing his brain to think back; how many movie theaters were in this particular area of town? He knew that this guy Renji was a cop so wouldn't it make sense for them to go to a movie theater nearest to the police station? He did a mental run-down and nodded curtly. This was the only theater in the area, he was sure of it.

_Unless…_

Ichigo's treacherous mind creaked again as he felt another whoosh of disgust whip through his stomach.

_Unless they had decided to forgo the movie theater all together and go back to Rukia's place._

Ichigo tensed his jaw. Hell, his entire body was tense. He felt like if a single feather were to fall on him he would end up snapping into a million little pieces.

_Breathe_, Ichigo told himself forcefully, _damn it man you need to breathe. Rukia wouldn't let that happen. She has better standards than that._

He smirked at the thought and let out a wicked chuckle. He sighed tensely and rested his head against the stone as well. His skull was scratched by the rocky protrusions but he ignored the slight abrasions.

He just needed to start thinking clearly. He needed to stop acting like a—like a… well, a jealous boyfriend.

Because he certainly wasn't Rukia's boyfriend. She had pointed that out to him many times before. Hell, _he_ had pointed that out to _her_ even more. Like that one episode where he had thought she had told his family they were dating. He had practically screamed at her that they weren't exclusive. They weren't dating, they weren't _together_ in any sense of the word, and as far as he knew they were sure as hell able to see other people if they wanted to.

He swallowed convulsively and nodded softly. That was right. He and Rukia were just using each other for sex. Random… hot… fantastic… mind-blowing… sex. She had made that amply clear the second time it had happened between them.

"…_This is what I propose," she whispered, "I propose that we come to some sort of arrangement. Sex with no strings. Just pure, carnal, absolute, pleasure. Nothing more and nothing less, whenever we feel like it."_

Sex with no strings. That was the arrangement between them. Nowhere did in her entire explanation did she say that they couldn't see other people.

Still, Ichigo could not ignore the small—infinitesimally small; maybe as large as a nanometer—part of his brain that never wanted her pure, sinful, body to be touched by hands that were not his. That part of his brain that never wanted her tight center to be penetrated by a length that wasn't his. That one part of brain that wanted to keep the picture-perfect face she made when she was having an orgasm solely to himself.

It wasn't that he wanted Rukia Kuchiki as a girlfriend… he just wanted her body to _himself_.

At least it made sense to him.

He scoffed and shook his head in disgust. He shouldn't even be thinking things like this, let alone be stalking Rukia to a movie theater.

"Why am I here?" He muttered, passing his hands through his hair once again. When an immediate answer was not given—and one wouldn't be unless the walls started talking—he ground the heel of his shoe into the ground and snarled, "Just what the hell am I doing here?"

He was making sure Rukia wasn't doing her best friend. That's what.

Maybe.

He was about to turn and go. After all, he had almost convinced himself that this was completely stupid. That this wasn't necessary. That Rukia could do whoever she wanted and that Ichigo could do the same. It really didn't matter to him. It wasn't part of theier deal.

That's when he heard it.

His head inched slowly to the side when it reached his ears. It was soft and tinkling—almost barely audible—but it was there. His head moved to the direction from which it had come and felt his jaw tightening. His throat worked to swallow as he stared at the woman coming towards him.

_She's not coming towards me,_ he chastised himself stupidly, _she's just moving in my general direction._

Still, he couldn't help but stare at her. In the misting water that swirled around her face his throat was suddenly dry and his chest was tightening slightly. She looked ethereal as she walked across the street, holding her jacket close around her body. Her black hair was plastered to her white skin, her cheeks and the tip of her nose was tinted with pink, and her shoulders were hunched forward. Ichigo felt his chest cave even more when he let his eyes scan over her entire body. The way she looked tonight made him think of taking off all of her clothes and pushing into her until she was screaming his name.

Only… _his_ name.

That was when his eyes slid over to the man walking at her side. He was grinning, his wide lips splayed into a large smile, showing rows upon rows of glittering teeth. Ichigo's eyes moved up to his head and he immediately wrinkled his nose. Over the tan skin on the man's face—or at least he thought it was tan, it was raining and dark—were wild patterns of tattoos that looked to resemble tribal markings. His sanguine hair was tied back into a random ponytail and stuck into the air despite being wet. It looked like he hadn't been wearing a jacket for a while either. His upper-body was encased in a tight—and now wet—tee shirt that exposed the ribbed and bulging muscles of his chest. A loose jacket was hung off of his broad shoulders but it wasn't zipped, despite the nearly-freezing weather. Ichigo glowered angrily when he saw how the sleeves of the jacket were raised _just_ so in order to show off his bulging forearms. Ichigo felt his lips raise in a small snarl as he fought back the urge to lunge at the man and rip his head off of his body.

He also happened to notice just how closely they were standing together. Rukia's arm would occasionally brush up against that of _that mans'_ and both of them would look at each other when it happened. Rukia would laugh and the bastard would look off quickly. Hell, it looked like he was fucking blushing.

He quickly ripped his eyes away from the sight in front of him and found himself staring at the list of movies being offered for tonight. Growling softly he dug into his pocket and pulled out his wallet. He held it tightly in his fists as he stared blankly at the list of mediocre movies playing. He just needed to wait for it…

Wait for it…

He heard the two sets of footsteps pull to a stop behind him and slowly felt a small smirk curling onto his lips. He drew in a deep breath as he allowed his body to relax a bit. He just needed to appear calm… cool… nonchalant… He crossed his arms over his chest and started to tap his foot lightly, as if suffering through a moment of indecision.

Wait for it…

"Ichi—Kurosaki?"

The smirk widened as he quickly jerked his shoulders up slightly—a practiced motion he had mastered in order to entertain many ladies who liked to tell him frightfully dull stories and expected him to pay rapt attention—and sharply turned his head towards Rukia Kuchiki, his eyebrows raised slightly.

"Rukia?" He said, a surprised note coating the edges of his voice. He twisted the rest of body towards her and lowered one eyebrow. "Hey, what's up?"

He fucking wished he had a camera with him right now. The expression on Rukia's face was so priceless. He had to fight not to burst out laughing at the widening of her eyes, the slight drop in her mouth, and the tiny twitching of her nose. The corners of his lips itched to move upwards but he controlled himself as best he could.

She parted her lips just a bit and blinked at him. "What's… up?" She frowned softly. Her hands came down from her jacket and she frowned heavily at him, her head angled to give her glare even more potency but Ichigo steeled himself for such a look.

"Yeah." He turned to her completely and allowed one edge of his mouth to quirk up. He didn't even bother to look up at her _companion_ when he spoke to her. "I didn't know you were coming to watch a movie." He paused for a moment and cocked his head to the side. "Which one? I'm trying to choose myself."

"We haven't decided," the deep voice next to Rukia said in a low tone.

Ichigo pointedly ignored the man for two exceedingly long seconds before looking over at him and raising one eyebrow. He stood stoically while the large, red-haired, man extended a tensely muscled hand towards him. Ichigo brought his own hand out and nearly felt the cords of his muscles snapping under the pressure. He gripped this man's—Renji Abarai's—hand just as tightly as he was gripping Ichigo's. Ichigo's solidly dark glare met his and he could have sworn that a bolt of lightning passed between them.

"Renji Abarai," he ground out, his hand still gripping Ichigo's with the strength to bend iron, "I work over at the Twenty Eighth Police Precinct about a block or two away."

If he was waiting for Ichigo's eyes to flick down to the badge he was no doubt wearing on his belt—along with a semi-automatic weapon—he didn't even blink.

"Ichigo Kurosaki," he responded instead, gripping Renji's hand with enough force to shatter steel, "I'm a corporate attorney with Suigetsu Inc. I work with Rukia."

_And I do so much more to her in our free time,_ he wanted to add sadistically. He settled for slowly releasing Abarai's bent fingers from his grip.

"Ah," the red-haired man said in a tense voice, straightening slightly. Ichigo made sure to keep an eye on his right hand while he spoke. Sure enough, the Renji twitched it a few times, as if he was trying to stretch out a few kinks. Ichigo didn't move his hand. "She's never mentioned you." He made a point of turning to Rukia and moving just a mite closer. "You work with this guy?" He asked her, jerking his thumb in Ichigo's direction.

Ichigo turned his attention to Rukia and simply grinned ruefully while she glared icily at the two _adult_ men in front of her. She crossed her arms over her chest and set her voice into a wickedly jarring tone, "Yes, Renji, I work with him. Yes, Kurosaki, we are going to a movie. No, you two may not act like cave men and try to break one another's arms." She stepped in between them and gave them each glares, "Got it?"

"I'll behave if he does." Ichigo muttered darkly, casting a glare in her companion's direction while Rukia huffed off to examine the movies that were playing. Ichigo watched her go and allowed himself a minute to stare at how tight her ass looked in that particular pair of jeans. He grinned softly to himself when he thought of getting her alone in a room and biting her perfectly formed bottom.

He sighed softly and turned back to her _friend_. The tattoo-freak's eyes were following him as his gaze moved from Rukia and back. By the time Ichigo looked at him, however, _Detective_ Abarai pulled back his coat and revealed a nine millimeter fitting snugly on his hip.

Ichigo just smirked. "Nice gun. Pretty big too."

"Does the job," Renji intoned darkly, "Anytime, anywhere, any_one_." His eyes flickered to Rukia and then back to Ichigo after a lingering second.

His hands itched to tear Renji's lungs out of his chest but he gritted his teeth together instead. After taking a single, calming, breath and smirking he nodded in the general direction of the detective's weapon. "Might do the job but I here it's just too quick sometimes." Ichigo looked up to Renji's coloring face and raised one eyebrow, "Heard it jams a lot too."

Renji took a threatening step forward, "You son of a—"

Ichigo was about to unleash the entirety of his mixed martial arts training on this prick when Rukia's voice cut between the two of them like a hot knife through butter. "We're seeing that new drama with that blond actress who had a breast implantation a few months ago." She clipped.

Renji jerked his face towards hers and quickly back to Ichigo. Rukia was staring pointedly at the space of air between the two tense men.

Ichigo glared at Renji for a minute before watching him take the ticket out of Rukia's hand, his fingers brushing hers lightly, and smiling contemptuously. "Thanks _Ruki_." He said, an obvious sneer dripping from his voice.

Hot rage filled Ichigo's stomach the moment his little appellation for _his fucking woman_ was spouted from that circus freak's mouth.

He didn't even bother to correct himself in thinking that Rukia was his woman. Right now it didn't matter. He needed to show that bastard just who he was dealing with.

_Actually,_ Ichigo thought furiously, _this really doesn't have anything to do with Rukia. Sure I don't want her around this guy but that's just because he's an arrogant prick who deserves to have his nuts removed with a fork. She's not mine and I don't own her but… god damn it! As long as that fucking agreement is still going on and I'm her personal sex toy… she's going to be mine!_

Ichigo snapped his head over to Rukia as she let out an exasperated sigh, muttered the word 'men,' turned on her heels, and entered the theater in a few huffing steps. Renji followed after her like a little puppy and—as he pushed open the doors to the theater—shot a swift and smug look back at Ichigo.

His limbs were on fire as he stood still. Cold air whipped around him and chapped at his fisted hands. He was quite sure that at least two of his molars were broken from clenching his jaw so hard. He didn't care. His heart was racing too fast for him to care.

_As long as that fucking agreement is still going on and I'm her personal sex toy… she's going to be mine!_

He'd made his decision.

He strode up to the ticket booth and slammed a ten dollar bill down onto the counter. The teenage boy who had been secretly watching him for the last thirty minutes jumped nearly three inches into the air. His skin became a sickening shade of green and tiny droplets of sweat began to pool on his upper lip—an upper lip which was already covered with bits of peach fuzz.

"Give me a ticket to whatever they went to," Ichigo growled menacingly, jerking his head in the direction where Rukia and Renji had disappeared.

The kid's sweaty fingers fumbled with the buttons on the machine as he pulled out a ticket and handed it to the half-crazed looking man before him. Ichigo took a moment to pride himself on the effectiveness of his 'insane expression.' Sure the hell worked on this stupid kid.

"H-Here y-you go-o." The boy squeaked.

Ichigo jerked the ticket away and didn't even bother waiting for his change before storming into the theater. It was as if he were wearing horse blinders. He growled softly as he found the correct theater, shoved himself inside, and wildly searching the insides.

There.

Grinning like an idiot Ichigo slid stealthily behind his woman and that damned fucking bastard.

*~*~*

Ichigo didn't know whether he wanted to laugh or… yeah, okay, he wanted to laugh. Hard too. Until his sides spilt. Until breathing was no longer an option.

It had nothing to do with the movie he was supposedly viewing, hell he didn't even know what the damn film was about. Instead of the movie he was watching the man right in front of him.

He was watching him squirm, that is.

Oh but it was fun. Ichigo grinned as he saw the heavily twitching muscles in Renji Abarai's arms and smothered another snicker as he _accidentally _bumped one of his knees against the back of his chair.

Again.

Another vein in his neck started to pulsate and his shoulders started to shake.

Ichigo had to fight against a cramp that was threatening to rest in his abdomen from smothering his sadistic laughter. Although he had to give the guy some credit. It had been at least twenty minutes before he had started to show any signs of irritation.

That had been twenty five minutes ago.

Ichigo felt his body convulse into fits of silent laughter as he kicked the back of Abarai's chair once again. He grinned and pressed a hand to his forehead when he saw the color on his face go up another hue. His face was now some sort of mottled green.

It went just _perfectly_ with his hair.

Okay, so perhaps he was being just a _bit _more childish than he should have been but honestly, he really couldn't find it in himself to stop. Ichigo was—after all—protecting what was—for now—rightfully his. The bastard had tried to put his arm around Rukia's should at least three times. Of course, a swift kick to the back of his chair usually relayed Ichigo's message that he was going to burn in the seventh circle of hell before he allowed that to happen.

The bastard was persistent though. He had tried it at least two more times before he had looked behind him, glared like a constipated gorilla, and turned furiously back to the movie. Ichigo knew he wasn't paying attention to the film though. He was probably thinking of at least forty different ways to murder him and dispose of the body without getting caught.

Still, Ichigo wasn't going to stop until the bastard was out of Rukia's sight. His mind darkened when he thought of actually following Rukia home just to make sure.

_Whoa,_ Ichigo snorted inwardly, _when the hell did you get so possessive?_

He rolled his eyes and leaned his head back to the ceiling of the theater. In truth, he didn't even know the answer to that question… and he was the one asking. Ichigo sighed in irritation and wondered if he was going insane.

It wasn't that he was being possessive of Rukia… it was more or less that he really, really, really, didn't like this guy. He was a cop, he had a gun, and he was at least three times bigger than Rukia. If he put those things together and added in a bit of sadistic thinking—including the fact that this guy was totally and completely, totally, and hopelessly in love with Rukia Kuchiki. Honestly, if he were to want something and if she were to tell him no… Christ, if he didn't like that answer… well… Rukia could get really hurt if this guy decided to do something.

So really, he was just trying to make sure that something didn't happen to her. After all, it wasn't that hard to imagine. Ichigo's brain ran through everything that had happened since the two of them had showed up at the theater. That bastard must have known there was something going on between Rukia and Ichigo. He must have known through the way Ichigo carried himself, the way his eyes watched her, and the way Rukia had almost said his first name with complete confidence, only to stop short because of the company.

An emotionally damaged man with a gun could cause a whole lot of pain.

And then there was also the whole _love_ thing to consider.

Ichigo's eyes zeroed in on the back of Renji's head and he clenched his teeth together. He could see it in the way he followed her around, he could see it in the way he blushed whenever they accidentally brushed their skin together, and he could see it in the way his eyes would glaze over while looking at her, it was as if he was imagining what, exactly she would look like without any clothes on.

Ichigo kicked Renji's chair once again, a bit more viciously than before. No one was going to see Rukia naked—at least in the foreseeable future—except for him.

A sudden movement directly before him brought Ichigo's attention to the two people sitting only a few inches away from him. His body tensed up in case he ended up having to kick Abarai's ass all over the theater. His eyes zeroed in and he glared in Renji's general direction before realizing that it was not Renji Abarai who had moved.

Rukia's small body was standing rigidly in front of him and he felt his jaw clenching slightly at the sight. With terrifying slowness, she twisted her upper body around and set her pulsating eyes upon his face. Ichigo's blood chilled as he saw the supernatural glow that came from a combination of the movie screen and her eye color rake across his body. The shimmer from the movie gave her gaze a sheen that should've been only found in otherworldly galaxies.

He pushed his body back into his seat and glared at her as she deftly placed one leg over the top of her chair and swung her body onto Ichigo's level of the theater. An image of her straddling his lap and riding her right in the middle of the theater came into his mind and Ichigo's fingers itched to grasp for her hips.

Rukia's hands, however, were grasping for something of their own. Several of her fingers found Ichigo's left ear and began tugging with an unnatural force. It took all of his pain-suppression powers to keep from yelling at the fire now racing through his head. However, while he was still occupied with her treatment of his ear, he failed to notice that her second hand had come and grasped the very front of his shirt. With painful jerks on both ends, she pulled him up out of his seat and sent him stumbling after her on their way out of the theater.

Neither one of them said a word—Ichigo didn't say anything because he was trying to keep a stream of curses from reaching the ears of the many matrons in the movie theater's audience and he could only guess that Rukia was staying silent because she was pissed as hell—until Rukia pushed the doors to the theater open with her foot and shoved both of them through.

That's when Ichigo began. "Ow! _Fuck_ Rukia let _go_!" He growled.

She increased her grip on his ear and he wondered if she was going to rip it away from his fucking head.

"Rukia," he growled, tugging against her now, "Let the fuck _go_." He demanded, his feet still following her as she walked them towards the theater's exit. People stared at their compromising position as they passed and Ichigo swore that he heard a few teenagers tittering near the confessions stand. He didn't care though, he was just trying to keep his ear attached to his head. Rukia didn't pay any mind to them either; her feet were getting faster and faster until she was almost jogging towards the exit.

Ichigo cursed as he moved and fought to keep back all the vile names he wanted to call her.

The cool air greeted them as Rukia shoved open the doors to the outside and pushed Ichigo through it. He glanced up at the ticket booth and saw the same kid who had sold him the ticket sitting there reading a dirty magazine. The kid looked up, saw Ichigo's livid expression, and immediately shoved the porno underneath the counter.

Ichigo didn't get another glance at him before Rukia's hands were on his chest and pushing him back into the brick wall—hard.

He landed with a grunt and then felt a small hand sear across the side of his face. The force of her slap and the cold of the air doubled the pain and he hissed angrily.

Rukia wasn't finished though, "What the _fuck _are you _doing_?" She screamed furiously, her eyes bright with anger and her face colored red.

Ichigo didn't even have time to admire just how fucking attractive she looked when she was angry before one of her hands balled into a fist and went pummeling into his gut.

His abdomen muscles contracted and he angrily pushed himself off from the wall. He stood to his full height and towered over the vicious little midget as she stared up at him. Despite her size she had the expression of a bear that had just been shoved out of its winter's sleep a little too early.

He didn't give a fuck though. She couldn't just slap him and punch him and decide that it was okay to go out on a date and not expect him not to do something about it! It just wasn't right!

"What the fuck am _I_ doing?" He repeated just as vehemently, "What the fuck are _you_ doing?"

Her eyes narrowed even more and he could swear that he heard her teeth grinding together. "_What?_" She demanded, her tone as deadly as deadly as a set of knives in the hands of a masochist.

"Don't act like you don't know what the hell I'm talking about," Ichigo seethed, jabbing a finger back to the movie theater angrily. "Why the fuck are you out with some circus freak who likes to parade around as a cop?"

"Detective," Rukia growled.

"Ring master."

"_Renji_," she snarled, "Is one of my closest friends." She crossed her arms over her chest and took a step forward until they were only a foot apart. "As you keep frequently telling me, I don't have many friends, so excuse me for wanting to see one of them tonight."

"Why isn't Momo with you then," Ichigo shot back, "If this is an outing between _friends_?"

Her fists were once again down by her waist but her arms were rigid. His breathing was hard and he realized that she was shaking angrily.

"What is fucking wrong with you?" She demanded in a voice suited for only the inner circles of hell. Her hand shot out and she pointed back to the theater. "I'm going out with a friend! A _friend_! This should not concern you at _all_!"

"It doesn't!" He shouted back, his face barely an inch away from hers.

"Then why the _fuck _are you here?" Rukia screamed, both of her fists came up to his shoulders and jarred him backwards. Ichigo stumbled slightly and snarled angrily. Her breath came out in choppy bursts as she gritted her teeth together, "You made the rules too, remember? We are not boyfriend and girlfriend. Are not and never will be, you made that explicitly clear when your family kidnapped me. You have absolutely _no_ say in what I do or who I choose to spend my time with."

_I should_, Ichigo's mind raged, his angered thoughts running like wildfire in his mind. He had to bite his tongue so the words would not come out.

Instead, he did something that he probably shouldn't have done. It was probably just the result of a combination of things—the weather, waiting for so fucking long outside of the damn theater, the fact that Rukia was actually on a date, and Rukia's date in general. It was just way too much for one guy to handle in a single night. His temper was frayed beyond normal limits and he really should _not_ have been held accountable for his actions.

_That's_ what Ichigo was thinking the moment he grabbed the back of Rukia's head and pulled her mouth to his. Her eyes were wide in surprise and her mouth opened in an infinitesimal gasp the moment she realized what he was doing. Ichigo knew he shouldn't have, but he took advantage of the small part in her petal lips and drove in, hard and fast. His breath was hot on her mouth as he kissed her as hard as he could.

Her hands came up to his shirt and fisted in the material as he punished her with his lips. A weak moan came from the back of her throat as he touched his tongue along the line of hers. He tilted his head to the side and began to caress the sides of her face with the pads of his thumbs. Their noses were crushed together and Ichigo was quite sure that he might just give Rukia an unwanted bruise. But he didn't care.

He needed to show her.

He was beginning to kiss her even harder when he felt a horribly sharp pain on his bottom lip. "Shit!" He gasped, releasing Rukia's mouth from his and then taking one hand away from her head to touch the throbbing spot on his face.

Rukia didn't waste a single second. She pushed her fisted hands against the hard wall of his chest and forced him back against the wall, simultaneously taking three steps away from him. Ichigo snarled at the lack of her body pressing against his and felt his lip once again. When he pulled his fingers back he found a dark red liquid splashed against the tan skin.

He jerked his head up and glared at Rukia like he had never glared before, "You bit me." He growled, half in fury, half in disbelief.

"Yes," she said, her voice slightly breathless. Her chest was heaving underneath her shirt and Ichigo's eyes narrowed when he saw twin protrusions from her nipples through her clothing. "I did."

Ichigo ground his teeth together and let his silent question stand for itself.

"You can't do that Ichigo," Rukia said in a voice that was low and managed. Her inscrutable eyes were trained on his as he watched her, "You can't just decide that I belong to you whenever you want. Remember our arrangement? I'm not breaking it. If anyone is, it's you." She took another step forward and pulled her voice down even lower until it was nothing more than a snarling growl. "I am going to go back inside. I swear to God Ichigo Kurosaki if you follow me I will never forgive you. I _will_ end our arrangement completely, I _will_ find another lover, and I _will_ flaunt him in front of you every chance that I get." Her feet moved again until she was right in front of him once more. She cocked her head to the side and narrowed her eyes at his livid face, "I might even take Renji home with me and there's _nothing_ you can do about it."

With that Rukia turned on her heel and marched back into the movie theater.

Ichigo watched her go until he could no longer see any lingering part of her body. His entire form was shaking with anger. Balling his hands into fists he spun around and walked furiously out into the cold rain.

He could only see red.

*~*~*

The moment Ichigo entered the office on Monday morning Rukia's desk was the first place he looked. She had heard the door being flung open and her head had shot up to look at him.

Ichigo gritted his teeth and stood in the doorway, his hand poised on the knob and his fingers flexing around the quickly warming metal. Rukia was sitting stiffly in her chair. Her body was turned towards him in an unyielding manner. She looked like if she would move a single inch she would break apart completely.

Ichigo slowly took a step inside and closed the door behind him. His eyes ran languidly over every part of her body that he could see. He made sure to look at her face, her neck, her shoulders, her chest, her stomach, and her legs, all the way down to the stylish yet functional shoes poking out of the underside of the desk. The entirety of her body stiffened as he gazed at her. He watched as a small shudder ran down her spine but even that small motion was suppressed. It was as if she didn't want to move until his eyes were completely finished devouring her.

Ichigo swallowed once and glanced away.

He didn't look at her again for the rest of the day.

**(A/N: First and foremost, this chapter is dedicated to Zapenbits, who has been with this story—and reviewing for it on both accounts on which it is posted—since the beginning. You rock!**

**Secondly, I had difficulty with this chapter. All in all I'm not sure I'm pleased with how it turned out but, ah, what can you do?**

**Note to Aly: I didn't get your email because ff . net doesn't allow it to show. If you PM me or email me we can discuss your questions. Just wanted to let you know I haven't been purposefully ignoring you! :)**

**PLEASE DON'T FORGET TO REVIEW!**

**And to all you faithful IchiRuki shippers out there, don't forget, Bleach Fade to Black is coming out in Japan December 13****th****! Woot woot! I say fieldtrip! Too bad everyone else won't be able to see it until September. :`(**

**On a separate note… MY BIRTHDAY IS IN 11 DAYS!!! WOOOOOO! God I love my birthday.**

**LOVETH YOU ALL AND DON'T FORGET TO REVIEW!!!)**


	29. Chapter 28

**Disclaimer: I do not own Bleach or any Bleach affiliates.**

_**Odalisque**_

**Chapter 28**

Rukia stared miserably down at the limp salad she was supposed to be consuming. God knows she had paid six bucks for the damn thing. But really, the least they could do was make it appetizing. Instead the piece of shit sitting before her looked like something a random animal had regurgitated and then pissed on. She pushed it away from her and angrily unscrewed the top of her bottled water.

Momo sat across from her, a blank stare resting on her clean face; she was chewing on her salad with slow, deliberate, movements and keeping her eyes pinned on Rukia as said woman fiddled with everything in front of her.

Ten whole minutes of utter silence passed between them before Momo sighed, set her fork down on the table, laced her fingers together, and propped them under her chin.

"Rukia," she said, her voice holding the quality and tenderness of a mother while still maintaining the exasperation of a teenager, "What the hell is the matter with you?"

"I don't know what you mean," Rukia mumbled, knowing full well that she was lying.

Momo gaped at her and then brought her brows together angrily. "You've barely touched your food, you're abnormally quiet, you look like death, and you're… you're… god damn it, you're just not _you_ and you haven't been for the past three days."

Rukia's left hand came to her forehead and she pressed it there as hard as she could. She brought her elbow up to the table and rested against it.

She was trying hard to figure out a way to say this without sounding like a child… or a lovesick spinster. She closed her liquid sapphire eyes and sighed. She didn't want to say it at all, actually. She didn't want to tell Momo what was going on right now between her and—and—_him_. She didn't want to come off sounding like some whiney bitch wondering what the hell she had done wrong. She already _knew_ what she had done wrong.

_Not that you did anything wrong either,_ Rukia's mind shot back viciously. _He's the one acting like the whiney bitch!_

"Rukia."

She raised her head to Momo and swallowed hard. The concern was written on her friends' face _so_ plainly. Even if she didn't want to say anything she knew that she couldn't let Momo go on without explaining things to her.

"Ichigo isn't speaking to me," she said, her voice quiet and sullen. The remnants of the anger she had felt towards him in his first two days of silence slowly fizzled underneath the surface of her body. She exhaled slowly and brushed a piece of black hair back from her face. "He hasn't been since last Friday."

"It's Wednesday now." Momo pointed out while tapping her finger to her chin. "Damn, five days?" Her eyes narrowed a bit and she tilted her head to the side, "Rukia… what happened?"

She rolled her eyes and took another sip of her water before leaning back in her chair and crossing her arms over her chest. "So it's my fault? Geez Momo, I thought at least you'd listen first." She turned her head stubbornly to the side and huffed angrily.

"What have you been smoking?" Momo demanded, slight anger coating the edges of her voice, "I asked you to tell me what happened, and I didn't say that you were to blame. Goddamn woman, get your ears checked."

A heated blush ran up Rukia's neck and cheeks as she averted her eyes to the ground. "Oh… sorry."

"Damn woman," Momo muttered, "If this is what sex deprivation does to you then I guess I can understand nearly the entirety of our friendship."

Rukia's head shot up and her mouth dropped, "What did you say?"

"Tell me," Momo demanded, ignoring Rukia's question completely, "What happened between you two?"

Rukia glared at her friend and made a mental note not to forget the friendship comment before taking in a deep breath and growling, "I went out with Renji on Friday night."

Momo flinched but kept her mouth shut.

"We ate out at a little bistro, we talked about stuff, and we had fun… I thought it was all going great. I mean, I hadn't really talked to Renji in ages. We practically grew up together but it seemed like once I hit college we barely found time for one another." Rukia sighed and passed a hand over her face. She felt tired all of a sudden. She felt like she could go home and sleep for an entire day.

"But when I got to the theater…" Rukia mumbled softly, her fingers toying with their counterparts on her lap, "Ichigo was there."

Momo's eyes widened exponentially, "Oh snap."

Rukia rolled her eyes at the teenage expression and continued, "He was there. He and Renji had some sort of testosterone mind-challenge when they shook hands."

"As to be expected," Momo interjected reasonably, "After all, just look who they're fighting over."

"No one was fighting over me," Rukia harshly snapped, "They're not that stupid."

One of Momo's eyebrows rose and she rolled her eyes with a sigh. "Go on."

Rukia settled further back into her chair and grunted out the rest of her sentence. "Ichigo followed us into the theater and sat right behind Renji."

A large quantity of air was sucked into Momo's lungs and Rukia pointedly stared away. "He kept on kicking Renji's seat throughout the entire movie. It took me forty five minutes before I actually dragged him outside."

"Then what happened?" Momo demanded, her voice slightly breathless and her fingers raised her to plump lips.

Rukia sighed, "I took him outside and we shouted at each other." Rukia winced when she recalled the event. "He started to ask me why I was out with Renji and why, if it wasn't just an outing between friends, weren't you there. I told him it wasn't any of his business and he just…" she pressed her fingers to the bridge of her nose and groaned. "He kissed me… _hard_. But I bit him and pushed him away. I told him to go away right then or else I'd never forgive him."

"Ouch."

"No," Rukia shot back, "Not 'ouch.' Never 'ouch.' I didn't do anything but get him to go away. He was the one who was fucking up our whole arrangement by acting like an unbelievable dick."

"Or an overprotective boyfriend." Momo pointed out curtly.

"No!" Rukia snarled, her fingers curling into fists, "Not like that."

"But he hasn't spoken to you since, has he now?" Momo demanded, "So he's pissed. He's jealous, Rukia, straight out, real-life, absolutely _jealous_."

"He's not," Rukia hissed back, slamming her open palm down on the table. Momo didn't so much as jump at the sound. She simply crossed her arms over her chest and glared at her best friend. Rukia gritted her teeth together and narrowed her eyes, "That would be a complete and utter violation of the rules we set up."

"Aren't rules meant to be broken?" Momo pointed out, her voice growing harsher by the second.

"Momo!" Rukia cried, "You're missing the point!" She jabbed her finger at her chest and then pointed it dramatically up to the ceiling where—a few floors above her—Ichigo was eating lunch. "This arrangement that we have is just supposed to be physical. Nothing more than that! You know what can happen when you put your heart out on the line!"

Momo's eyes darkened and she jerked her head up and down in one swift nod. "I do know, Rukia. I really do." She narrowed her gaze and leaned slightly across the table. "I spent every year since I was twelve putting my heart out on the line. I've had it broken hundreds of times by guys who were jerks, pussies, sicko's, bastards, losers, womanizers, and sex buddies. You were there, you saw; you were the one who helped me up when I was stuffing my face with every flavor of ice cream under the planet."

Rukia leaned back even more at Momo's outburst but her friend just leaned even further across the small table, narrowing the distance between them.

"But you know what, Rukia Kuchiki? I put my heart out on the line after trying thousands of times to find the right guy. I did it and I finally found Shiro. I finally got lucky." Momo scoffed and sat back in her seat, an expression of disgust crossing her features. "You've had your heart broken _once_." She put up her hand, extended her pointer finger, and snorted, "Once. Please; you think that makes you some kind of veteran? Kaien Shiba made you love him and it turned out he was married. Big whoop. It's not like you ever actually screwed the guy. That was just some middle school flirtation. You don't know what it's like you put your heart out on the line. One little cry-fest and you think that you've seen the worst? Honey, you haven't even glazed over the tip of the goddamn ice berg."

She shook her head and suddenly stood. Momo was gathering all of her trash—her half-eaten salad, her plastic utensils, and her bottled water—and jerked them away from the table.

"You're just so fucking terrified that you actually might feel something for Ichigo Kurosaki that you're trying to push this all on him. So it's _his_ fault. Come on Rukia; use your goddamn brain for once."

That said, Momo swiftly turned away from the table and walked with sure and confident steps towards the exit. She viciously threw her trash into the receptacle and continued on her way. The door made angry noises when she slammed it open and passed through.

Rukia was left sitting in her seat.

*~*~*

Her body was frozen stiff. She had to fight to shove one leg in front of the other. Her body was numb. Her lips were parted slightly and her eyes were glazed. Everything else about her seemed to slow down.

But her mind was working at a thousand minutes a second.

"_Kaien Shiba made you love him and it turned out he was married."_

He had been married. He hadn't told her that though. For an entire year he had taken her out, smiled at her, helped her in school, and kissed her waiting lips and he had been married.

"_Big whoop."_

It had been big. Rukia had never been in love before. She had never known that her heart could pound so much in another person's presence or that someone could entice fire to rush over her skin with a single touch. She hadn't known what it was like to feel that kind of desire. Not until him. Not until Kaien.

"_It's not like you ever actually screwed the guy."_

That was true at least. She never did sleep with him. She had wanted to; she had wanted to have him deep inside her, pushing and pulling until she almost cried in frantic bliss. She had wanted to run her hands down his back and kiss his chest and hold him tightly when it was over.

But he never let it get any further than kisses and strokes. He always made up excuses too: _"We can't… I'm your student teacher… if anyone finds out… I'm four years older than you… not tonight… want to save you… romantic…"_

She had accepted it too. Every word that came from him she drank in and cherished like it was the last bit of light from a dying star. She filled her head with reasons why he wanted to wait. He wanted to make it special. He wanted to find the time to show her how much he cared. He wanted to wait… so she waited.

She had waited for an entire semester of being completely and totally in love with him before that one disastrous day. He had been assisting the professor during a lab that had run overtime. They were working through lunch just to get the project done.

Suddenly, the door opened and in walked a woman with chestnut hair, gleaming eyes, perfect skin, and a curvaceous body. She strode up to Kaien, kissed him on the mouth, whispered something in his ear, and handed him a bagged lunch.

"_That was just some middle school flirtation."_

It had not been a flirtation. Rukia knew it had been something so much more than that.

The minute his wife—she knew it had been his wife, she had seen the diamond on her hand, she had seen the look in her eyes—left Rukia finished the lab as quickly as she could and exited the building. The tears that she had been fighting back began to flow freely and she kept her head as far down as she could.

She only turned around when she felt a hand tugging hard on her arm.

"_Rukia…" it was him, he was slightly out of breath from running to catch up with her. His hair was falling into his eyes and, if it had been thirty minutes ago, Rukia would have raised her hand and brushed the strands aside. But not now, not when her heart was shattering into a million pieces at the very sight of him._

"_Please… I can explain."_

_She wanted him to explain too. She wanted to hear the sweet poison spilling from his lips once again. She wanted him to speak to her like he always did. She wanted him to tell her that that woman meant nothing to him, that he loved _her_, and that he wanted to be with her._

_She wanted all of it._

_She jerked her arm out of his grip and took three steps back. "No… no. Get away from me."_

"_Please Rukia," he begged, "I know that I'm… I'm…" he sighed and ran a hand through the messy hair that she loved so much. "But Rukia… I've entrusted my heart to you."_

_The books in Rukia's hands dropped to the ground as she raised her hands and clapped them over her ears._

"_NO!" She shrieked, her voice reverberating into of the empty hallway. She desperately shook her head and bent into a crouch. He tried to come towards her but she ran. She ran as hard and as fast as she could. When she made it to her dorm she could barely breathe; the combination of tears and exertion nearly killed her._

_She came to her dorm to find Momo reading at her desk. Her friend looked up, dropped her book, and immediately caught Rukia as she collapsed on the carpet._

Rukia's hollow hand reached out and grabbed the doorknob to her office. With a gentle twist it opened and she stepped inside.

Her body was numb as she relived the worst day of her entire life.

*~*~*

Ichigo was sitting at his desk when he heard Rukia come back into the office. He didn't so much as raise his head when she slowly shut the door and padded further inside.

His neck was stiff as he stared down at the file sitting on top of his desk. The numbers and letters in front of him looked like completely and utter gibberish. It didn't matter though. His jaw worked angrily against its counterpart as he fought not to say anything angry or condescending.

Five fucking days and he had not said a single word to her. Although, if he was to be fair, she hadn't said a single word to him either. It was kind of like some standoff between them.

The only real problem was that he actually _wanted _to talk to her.

Well, maybe talking wasn't what he wanted to do. Interrogating, perhaps, yelling, screaming, and maybe even a bit of growling… that's what he wanted to do in terms of communication.

His mind darkened and his eyes clouded when he thought of what questions he wanted her to answer. All of them—of course—having to deal with that bastard of a circus freak she had gone out with last Friday.

Ichigo felt his hands gripping his pen with unusual strength. If only he had convinced Rukia to stay home with him that night. Then she wouldn't have been all over town with that freak of a human being.

"_I might even take Renji home with me and there's nothing you can do about it."_

Ichigo narrowed his eyes and practically burned a hole in the paper with how hotly he was staring.

Had she taken him home? Did they just talk or did they put their tongues to a few different uses? Had he fucked her like she liked it? Was he bigger than that bastard? Did she enjoy it as much? Did she call out his name or that fuckers? Did his cock bring her into an orgasm the likes of which Ichigo's cock could?

All these things he knew the answer to, of course, but he wanted her to tell him. He wanted to hear it from her mouth. He needed that.

But instead of asking he bit his lip and tried to focus on his paper. He could wait a few more days. He could be patient. He brought his eyes a fraction away from the paper and glared at the empty space in front of his desk. It wasn't like Rukia cared anyway. She was ignoring him just as much as he was ignoring her.

_Not ignoring,_ he reminded himself irritably, _more like forcibly abstaining from._

He continued to glare and swiped his head back to his file. He sure as hell wasn't going to be the one who broke first. He knew that sooner or later she'd come begging for him.

_Like she did when we first made the deal._ He thought sourly. _She'll come to me first. But until then she'll just sit there… typing away at that damn computer and pretending like I don't—_

Ichigo brought his head up and, for the first time since last Friday, looked over at Rukia's desk.

What he saw made his hands stop and his eyes widen.

Rukia was sitting in her chair, her hands folded neatly in her lap, her back was slouched a bit but her rigid posture remained intact. Her feet were lying limp on the floor and her head was tilted forward ever so slightly.

That, however, wasn't what made him… what was the word… nervous, perhaps? Yes, nervous. Nervous was alright. Anyway… it was her eyes. They were blank and staring at the top of her desk. She looked as though she was lost inside of her own mind. But that wasn't it either. On the rims of her eyelids were glistening streaks of wetness that shimmered in the fluorescent lighting of the room.

_Holy… fucking… shit._

Was Rukia Kuchiki _crying?_

"Rukia?" Ichigo's voice was rusty, as though he hadn't used it in ages. It felt like he hadn't. He hadn't actually said her name since Friday when he had said all of those terrible things to her… and vice versa. He swallowed and forced that memory to go back down into his stomach. He couldn't think about this when Rukia was just sitting there looking as dead as a block of wood… not when she was crying.

"Rukia?" He said again, this time louder.

Her body jerked slightly and she raised her head a fraction. Her eyes blinked twice and out of the corner of each one a small stream of salty liquid fell down. They curved over her cheekbones and slid down under her chin. Ichigo watched as they merged together and—as one solitary tear drop—fell onto the folded fingers of her hands.

"Yes?" Her voice was just as rough. Her dead, lifeless, pained, eyes looked over at him and Ichigo had to shudder when he saw them. Her eyes were not supposed to be like that. Not Rukia. Not her eyes.

"Are you… alright?" He stuttered, feeling stupid for even asking the question. Of course she wasn't alright. He could see _that_ plain as fucking day.

She didn't answer him though. Instead, her eyes became even more glazed and began to look past his head. Ichigo stared hard at her face and frowned even more as she heaved a small sigh and brought her hands up to her desk.

With slow, practiced, motions and while still looking behind his head, Rukia stood up from her chair.

"I think I'm going to go home." She said; her voice was barely above a whisper.

The only thing that stopped Ichigo's eyes from bugging out of his head were the thin, glistening, lines streaking down her face.

"Wh—?"

He didn't even get to finish his word before she was sliding her things off of her desk and walking towards the office door. Her body moved slowly and deliberately as she carefully placed her feet one in front of the other.

Ichigo watched in speechless disbelief as Rukia Kuchiki walked out of the office in the middle of the day.

She shut the door quietly behind her and Ichigo gaped at the glaring openness that was left in the wake of her departure.

It took him several minutes before he was able to speak again.

"What… the hell?"

First, she had cried, then she had looked so dead, and now she was leaving in the middle of the day? In the middle of the _week_?

Ichigo's stomach twisted at the thought of those two shining tears as they fell down the sides of her face.

It only took him one torturous hour before he finally got up and followed her.

*~*~*

Ichigo walked slowly into the elevator and pressed the button that would take him to Rukia's floor. His lips pressed together as he waited patiently. The sounds of elevator music floated around him and he sighed softly in annoyance.

He closed his eyes and thought back to what he had seen today. Had Rukia actually been crying? It had looked like it. But then again, half of him believed that Rukia didn't possess the necessary ducts to actually produce tears. However, her face had been red and her eyes had been rimmed with the same color crimson. She had sounded so _dead_. She had even gone home early.

Something was not right and Ichigo wanted to know what it was.

Ichigo jabbed his shoe against the floor of the elevator and growled angrily. She just hadn't been herself. She had barely even reacted when he glared at her like he had been doing for the past couple of days.

Not that he didn't have reason to either. She knew damn well why he was angry with her. He ground his teeth together and pressed his eyelids against each other.

_Renji Abarai._

A small snarl escaped his throat as the elevator doors opened. He strode through them quickly and began walking to the number of her apartment. He stepped in front of the door and rapped his knuckles against the wood three times. His body was tense as he waited for her to open the door.

From the inside he heard someone sigh, followed by a few choice mutterings. Silently, Ichigo moved to the side in order to escape the peephole just in case she wanted to deny him access.

Another growl sounded from inside as Rukia undid the locks one by one.

"Momo," she said from the other side, her voice strained and thick, "If you've come here to apolo… oh. It's you."

She stopped speaking and then turned her bland, lifeless, eyes on him.

Ichigo felt something drop into the inside of his stomach when he looked at her. So dead… so bland… he swallowed and narrowed his eyes at her. Where the hell was the fire he normally saw in her liquid sapphire eyes?

"May I come in?" He demanded, phrasing it as a question even though she knew it wasn't one.

"No." She spat, crossing her arms over her chest.

Ichigo forced his way through and sent her stumbling back a few feet. "Ichigo!" She growled, her voice filled with exasperation, fatigue, and… and… something else he couldn't quite place…

Hopelessness?

"What do you want?" She asked, her hand reaching back to the door and shoving it shut. She did up the locks again and moved to stand in the middle of the room. She pressed her fingers into the bridge of her nose and rubbed softly. Ichigo watched her in silence.

"You've been ignoring me for the past five days," she rasped, not looking up at him, "You embarrassed me in front of my friend, you've made me angrier than I have ever been in a long time, and you still have the nerve to show up here." She raised her head and shook his twice. "What do you _want_?"

"I'll have you know," Ichigo ground out, advancing on her slightly, "That I didn't come here to be railroaded into begging at your feet."

"Then what did you come here for?" she hissed angrily.

"I came here to see what the hell upset you so much that you ran away from work like a scared little dog!" He growled, advancing on him until he was towering over her small form.

She reached out and slapped him hard on the face. His head turned and his cheek turned slightly red as she lowered her hand and swept softly passed him.

"Don't you dare talk to me like that," she snarled, moving towards a small hallway near the back. "Not after that little stunt you pulled at the theater. No matter what you do Ichigo I will not forgive you for that. What's more I've had a horrible damn day and if you want to provoke me even further then go ahead, but I swear to God that if you do I will never see you again!"

She turned around to yell at him even more when he did something that surprised even him.

Ichigo pushed Rukia hard against the wall and a small sound of anger and confusion escaped from her throat. Her eyes slanted angrily as she jerked her body forward and attempted to move away from the cool plaster. Ichigo's form surged forward and trapped pushed against every inch of hers. A gasp escaped Rukia's mouth and she whimpered softly when she felt the hard ridge of his knee slither its way between her legs. Her hands came up to his shoulders and she grunted in slight panic.

"Ichigo!" She cried as she shoved against him, "What are you—? This isn't the time—!"

His head bent down and his teeth nipped hard at her pulse point. His teeth raked across the delicate skin and an unearthly intake of breath flew through Rukia's throat. Her hands were still placed on his shoulders but her once tight grip was now lax and her sharp nails were now digging into him not to hurt him, but to draw him closer. Ichigo increased the amount of force of his body against her and drove her even further into the wall.

Half of him didn't know what he was doing. Okay, so all of him didn't know what he was doing. Hell, Rukia had just slapped him, yelled at him, and accused him and here he was… kissing her neck and touching her skin.

Maybe it was because he hadn't touched her—or much less spoken to her—in five days. Maybe he wanted to show her that he was the _only one_ who could turn anger into passion instantaneously. Maybe he wanted her to know that, no matter how angry she was, she'd always forgive him.

Maybe… maybe this was the only way he really knew how to talk to her. To communicate his feelings of worry and nervousness. Maybe he needed to do this because… because it was the only way he knew how he could help her.

Then again, maybe he was just making excuses.

His lips made hot circles around her neck and his teeth scraped along the flesh as Rukia tilted her head to the side and groaned fitfully. He could feel her nipples prickling through her thin nightshirt and he could feel the increasing warmth of her sex against his upper thigh. A small growl came from his throat and he switched his oral attentions to the other side of her neck. Rukia's hands, which had been pushing against him only moments ago, were now wrapped around his shoulders, inching their way to the back of his neck.

His hands were now on her hips. They gently smoothed over the skin on the tops of her thighs and the slid over the silky flesh under her knee. Rukia moaned softly and curled her arms completely around his neck. Her head tilted to the side as she gave him free reign over what was to be done to her.

His face remained intent as his fingers began to slide around her body in a rhythmic motion. He gently pushed his fingers down to the skin directly below her knee, only to bring in back up in a slowly, torturous manner, until it was pushed underneath the flimsy fabric of her night shorts. The sounds she was making were music to his ears. Ichigo hummed contentedly into her neck as his fingers continued their busy work. Whenever they would travel to the edge of her knee a small, irritated, mewl would escape her throat, however, whenever his wandering hands made their way to the tops of her thighs, her voice would become breathless and she would begin to pant harder.

Ichigo grinned to himself at the thought of his newfound means of torture. Gently and as slowly as he could with his growing arousal, Ichigo pushed his entire hand up between the space of her tiny shorts and her skin. She gasped and groaned when his calloused fingertips met the gentle dip at the connection of her legs and hips. He bit down hard on her neck as his thumb softly caressed the warm skin. He slowly slid his other fingers around to cup the sides of her hips. She whimpered softly as she felt his hot digits brush up against the tender flesh of her bottom. She pushed her head back into the wall as he kneaded her.

His name escaped her lips as she groaned. Ichigo closed his eyes against the sweet skin of her body and allowed himself to press even further into her. Rukia was crushed _so_ tightly against the wall. Her arms were wrapped around his shoulders and only a moment later she raised one of her legs so that she might hook it around his waist.

His body was tight and hot against hers and while she writhed acutely between his body and the wall, his hand still tortured the sweet skin above her legs. He finally moved his fingers up only a few inches more and found the hem of a dastardly scandalous pair of underwear. A low, primal, growl escaped his mouth as he rubbed the lace between his finger and his thumb, feeling the texture and imagining how snugly it fit against her skin.

His movements were liquid as he removed his hands from underneath her shorts. His body, which had been pressing so hard against hers, suddenly vanished, leaving in its wake a cold, empty spot. Rukia shivered at the loss of contact and groaned when she felt her hands suddenly slip away from his shoulders.

"Ichi—"

The second part of his name was uttered on a sucked in breath the likes of which would have burst Ichigo's own chest. He grinned when he saw the shivers that ran down Rukia's entire body when she realized where he was. Her head tilted back against the wall and she moaned, a preemptive response to the torture he would surely inflict upon her.

Slowly, as though he were unwrapping a long-awaited gift, Ichigo hooked his fingers into the waistband of her night shorts and began to pull them, ever so languidly, down her long, slim, legs.

Ichigo's breath was short and sporadic as he brought her clothing down to her knees. The elastic loosely held them around the dips of her legs as Ichigo brought his hands up to massage her thighs. His eyes became feral as his hands rubbed up and down the tight and curvaceous lines of her body. She moaned under him as his fingers roved her inner thighs, her knee caps, her hips, and her buttocks. Ichigo's attentive ministrations lasted for several minutes and during that time the smell of Rukia's dripping sex became even more potent, the ache of his bent legs became stronger, and the shaking of Rukia's firm legs became even more pronounced.

The trembling of Rukia's legs became so great that only moments later her shorts dropped the quick distance to her ankles and pooled limply at her feet. Ichigo clenched his jaw in order to contain himself as he drew in a deep breath and smelled the heady, thick, delicious scent of Rukia's inner folds. His eyes shone with hunger as he inclined his head upwards and took in the sight of her.

She was resting precariously against the wall, both of her arms were splayed at her sides, and her palms were flat on the walls, fingers extended. She kept tensing and relaxing the grip of her muscles, as if she was desperately trying to find some sort of purchase of the smoothness behind her. Her nipples were pronounced through the thin gauze of her shirt and the constant heaving of her chest left Ichigo with the intense desire to throw her on the floor and ravage her the way an animal would rut with its mate. The muscles in her stomach and chest would spasm every few minutes, sending vibrations ricocheting off into her arms and even more into her legs.

Ichigo looked down and ignored the painful throbbing inside of his pants and lurched forward. His face was immediately pressed into the crotch of her panties.

A sharp shriek echoed around the walls of Rukia's apartment and Ichigo groaned as he scent assaulted his senses once again. His brain short-circuited as he filled his nostrils with the heavenly heat and dampness of her essence. He snarled half in his throat and half in his mouth as he brought his tongue out to taste her against the lace of her panties. His searching and defiant tongue followed the seam of the lips underneath and hungrily sucked the material into his mouth. Over his tongue washed an astounding amount of perfumes and aromas. Her fragrance was poignant and threatened to drive him mad.

He felt her fingers in his hair the moment his mouth began to pull at the hem of her black lace underwear. Her panting had increased and the trembling in her legs had gotten even worse. His teeth tugged on the fabric even harder and he felt it give way under him. The slight tearing brought Rukia's head snapped down to him. He didn't look up but he could feel her gaze on the top of his head.

His animal instincts dug even further into his heart when he realized that she would be watching as he ate her alive.

A feral grin on his face, Ichigo peeled the sticky lace away from Rukia's dripping sex and brought it to his hand. Knowing that she was watching him, he pressed them against his face and inhaled sharply.

"Ichigo…" she breathed; Ichigo closed his eyes and drew in another breath. He was becoming drunk with the sensations of her. Christ! It was like a drug, overpowering in its own right and completely addictive.

Her name rushed through his lips as he tossed her undergarment aside and, this time, pressed his lips against her waiting wetness.

A long, low, sultry, moan escaped Rukia's mouth the moment Ichigo's lips ran over her labia. He tasted her slick sweetness against his tongue and immediately wanted more. His instincts were driving him, pushing him, and pulling him towards her. For tonight, he wanted to dominate her, completely and utterly. He wanted to have her rolling underneath him, crying out for him, begging him to stop when her body couldn't take anymore of the pleasure.

His eyes darkened as he recalled her night with Renji.

"_I might even take Renji home with me and there's nothing you can do about it."_

He snarled into her scant midnight curls and pressed his mouth even tighter against her. He needed to show her, needed to teach her… he was the only one who could—or would—make her come with the intensity of an earthquake, make her flow like a tsunami, make her scream like a banshee, and make her moan like a whore.

_He_ was the _only_ one.

His hand reached up and he placed it underneath her knee. She let out a breathless yelp as he jerked her leg over his shoulder and then reached for the other. He pushed her legs over his shoulders and then steadied her when she jolted from her perch. Her hands thrashed back to his hair and she tugged mercilessly on the strands.

Ichigo's hands remained on her hips as he began his assault.

Rukia shrieked.

His tongue invaded her as ruthlessly as he could. He laved the insides of her being with care, as though he were a sculptor, taking time to finish a masterpiece. She pulled against his hair and shoved her head against the wall. Ichigo worried for a moment that she would hurt herself but he was too overwhelmed with _her_ that he didn't think too much of it again.

His teeth moved upwards and he tugged on her clit until it was swollen and pink and raw from his ministrations. Rukia kept her hold on his hair as he then nipped at the puffy pink entrances to her tight sheath. Her mouth was open and panting and Ichigo could feel her stomach expanding and contracting with each erratic breath she took. Sweat ran down Ichigo's face and his pants constricted more and more until he was beyond the simple levels of discomfort. His body creaked as he held his position but he didn't dare move.

Rukia curled around his body as he growled against her. He could taste the oncoming essence of her orgasm and he thrust his tongue into her again. He wanted to taste her as she came on his tongue.

"Ichigo!" She screamed, her body convulsing angrily against him. She shook hard against him and jarred his head from one side to the next but still Ichigo didn't stop. He didn't stop tasting her or teasing her clit with the tip of his tongue. He didn't stop scraping his teeth against her walls or pushing his tongue into her. He didn't stop. He couldn't.

He just _couldn't_.

He pushed himself into her even more. His mouth, which was covered in her wetness, seemed as dry as a desert. He groaned heavily in his throat as he made her writhe and scream above him. Her body was tilting, threatening to fall, heaving and heavy against him. His hands pressed against her hips to hold her there. He knew that if she fell he'd not be able to stop himself from ravishing her as roughly and as completely as he wanted to.

"Ichigo," she panted, his name no more than a plea on her lips. Her voice was strained and her entire body was shaking against him and the wall.

He lost count of how many times he made her come. He didn't even know how long he had his mouth between her legs. He just kept going; he kept licking and teasing and biting until it was all he seemed to be able to do.

Only when the tightness inside of his pants became near unbearable to maintain did he rise from his kneeling position on the floor. His head slipped from between Rukia's shaking legs and her limbs fell from his shoulders.

Without provocation, her entire body slumped to the ground. Ichigo pulled back until he was sitting on his ass. The press of his tented pants was enough to make him scream for his own release. His dilated eyes were blinking wildly into the light. After so long a time of being buried in Rukia the light around him seemed unnaturally intense. His hand rose to his mouth and he slowly wiped away what he had not already licked. He felt drunk and dizzy and tipsy and… _hungry_.

His eyes made their way back to Rukia and found that she had not moved from her spot slumped against the wall. Her entire body was limp. Her eyes were glazed, half-open, and she was staring out into space, as if she no longer had the strength to look anywhere else. Her chest was heaving sporadically, as though she had no control over when her lungs drew in a breath. The lower half of her body—her legs, hips, and thighs—were splayed out on the floor without regard to how open she was. Her upper body was slanted against the wall, her arms boneless and pliant against the cold ground.

Ichigo moved swiftly from his sitting position on the floor until he was crouching above her. Her eyes didn't even flicker to him as he moved to stand over her prone body. His hands reached down to her and a sound escaped her throat. It was halfway between a moan and a groan and it made Ichigo's feral instincts become even sharper.

He pulled her limp body up and began to stride to the small hallway that led to her room. He had never been inside of her house before but he could tell which room she slept in. He didn't know if it was his racing heart, his heaving lungs, or the instinctual, primal, need that he was feeling that allowed him to take a deep breath and just know which room was hers. Her scent was heaviest there.

Taking her as gently as his body would allow, Ichigo pushed open the door to her room, strode inside, and took her to the bed. The moment her body hit the softness of her mattress her eyes jolted open and she began to look wildly around the room.

Ichigo knew she was watching him as he tore off his shirt—a few buttons scattering softly around the floor. He relieved himself of his undershirt and then began to take off his pants. Rukia's eyes followed his fingers as he pulled the zipper down tooth by tooth, the lids coming off from her eyes more and more until they were as wide as plates.

Her body began to tremble as he shoved away his pants and his boxers. His body was as lithe as a jungle cat as he crawled over her and hovered above her.

"Ichigo," Rukia panted, her jerking limbs shuddering pleadingly against him, "P-Please… too much..."

Before she could speak another word Ichigo sheathed himself inside of her.

Rukia screamed like he had never heard her scream before because right now she was feeling pleasure the likes of which she had never felt before. She brought her nails up to claw into his shoulders and clamped her knees to his hips. Ichigo pulled out of her only to slam back inside harder than before.

Rukia's head fell back onto her neck as she rolled through an orgasm so tremendously powerful it even startled Ichigo for a moment. She clamped around him with a tremendous force. Ichigo felt himself choking softly in his throat as she gripped him.

But Ichigo wasn't finished. He pushed into her and pulled out of her with the speed of a demon. Her eyes rolled into the back of her head and she moaned and gasped as though they were the only sounds she could ever make. Her hands clamed around him and she shuddered violently.

Her name came through his lips as he felt his release nearing. He swore and pressed the side of his face to hers. His lips roved her breathtaking features until they paused on her lips. Her mouth was open and moaning and he took advantage of her gasping orifice. His tongue invaded her mouth as fully as it had invaded her center. She crooned against him but did not fight. He didn't know if she could fight. She allowed him complete reign over their lips; he sucked, tested, and teased. His hungry mouth couldn't be satiated as he plundered her.

Finally, Ichigo wretched his mouth away from hers and came hard inside of her. His body jerked and shook as he wildly dipped inside of her. She took all of him, just like she always did, and squeezed him just as tightly as her entire body rolled through another powerful orgasm.

Ichigo thrust into her one last time before he felt her entire body become limp in his grasp. Her arms fell from his shoulders, her legs dropped from his hips, and her head dropped back onto the pillow.

Ichigo's body shook as he removed his head from the crook of her neck and shoulder. He slowly moved his body up until he was hovering above her. He brought his eyes to her face and blinked heavily at what he saw.

Rukia Kuchiki had passed out.

**(A/N: Okay, so not entirely sure how people will react to this chapter but, eh, I like how it turned out. Gives you a bit of Rukia's history and all. Also, I like that Momo has a spine when it comes to Rukia's moods... but I can be biased. I'm the author.**

**Don't forget to review!**

**I also wanted to say Happy Holidays to everyone who's reading this fic. May you and your families have a great time over this holiday season.**

**Plus, as a little Christmas present from me to you this chapter won't be all that you'll read from me tonight. Click the next button and you'll get the next installment of Odalisque!)**


	30. Chapter 29

**Disclaimer: I do not own Bleach or any Bleach affiliates.**

_**Odalisque**_

**Chapter 29**

In the distance, Ichigo heard the doorbell sound.

His body jerked then he swiftly got up from his place near the end of Rukia's bed and padded across her carpet to the hallway. His pants brushed against his legs as he moved as quietly as he could. He sighed softly when he came to the door and peered through the small peephole. His eyebrow rose as he viewed the person on the other side.

He quickly undid the locks and pulled the door open.

The moment the block of solid, rectangular, wood was removed an instantaneous and sharp gasp radiated through the hallway.

"Hello Momo," Ichigo said casually, his voice still softer than normal.

Her mouth was open and her eyes were bugging out of her head. While she remained momentarily retarded, Ichigo's eyes moved over her and took in her entire appearance. She was dressed the way she did when she went to work with a few changes. In her left hand she held a dripping umbrella and in the other she held a plastic bag laden with food.

Ichigo cocked his head to the side and nodded at the bag, "Chinese?"

Momo's eyes blinked twice and she seemed to snap out of whatever trance she had been put in. She shook her head softly, stared dumbly at him for another moment, and nodded. "House of Wong. Rukia's favorite."

"Oh," Ichigo mused, he reached out and took the bag from her hands. Her arm seemed to relish the loss of the intense weight and she flexed the muscles happily. Ichigo tilted his head to the inside of Rukia's apartment and shrugged, "Come on in."

Momo immediately took a step inside but then paused. "Wait… Ichigo, where's Rukia?"

Ichigo moved into the small kitchen and placed Momo's food onto the counter. "In her room, sleeping." He answered simply, "So keep your voice low."

She nodded her head once and then moved to shut the door as quietly as she could. Ichigo watched her as she shuffled into the room practically on her tip toes.

"She's sleeping?" Momo whispered, moving into the kitchen as well as seating herself in one of the bar-like chairs. The moment she settled in she raised her left wrist and looked at her watch. "But it's only five o'clock."

"She was rather tired," Ichigo stated quietly, "I mean, I don't know what the hell happened to her at lunch today but…" he looked up at Momo and immediately found her guiltily staring at the floor, "She just looked so out of it."

"So she came home." Momo said, she was nudging her toe against the counter sullenly.

"Yes." Ichigo put the Chinese food boxes into the microwave so they wouldn't congeal in the refrigerator.

"And…" Momo elongated the word until it was a few syllables. "You… followed her?"

"I did." Ichigo nodded, turning around and leaning his back against the counter. He stared at her with a very clear 'do not ask' face.

Momo, however, didn't let up. "And now she's asleep." She rapped her fingers against the counter and raised an eyebrow, "Did you drug her?" She sarcastically demanded after several minutes of tiresome silence.

Ichigo sighed in irritation, leaned his head back, and rolled his eyes to the top, "We had sex. Lots of it. She passed out during the final round."

Momo started choking, on what he had no idea, but she was choking—loudly too. He immediately came over to the other side of the island and patted her ruthlessly on the back. She grunted angrily and swatted his hand away. She closed her mouth and coughed a bit more before looking up at him with watery eyes. Ichigo took a few steps back and frowned at Rukia's best friend. He instantly regretted telling her that last bit.

"She _passed out_?" Momo whisper-screamed, her hand pressed hard to her chest. "What did you _do_?"

Ichigo glowered at her, "That I won't tell you." He crossed his arms over his bare chest and glared at her, "At least, not until you tell me why Rukia came back from lunch crying."

Momo's scandalized expression dropped immediately and she pulled her pink bottom lip between her teeth. She looked down at the ground and swallowed hard. "She was… she was _crying_?"

"Damn near it." Ichigo grunted.

"Oh."

He raised his eyebrows, "Oh? That's all you have to say?" He shook his head and growled, "Damn it Momo, what the hell happened at lunch?"

She sat silently in her seat for several seconds before drawing in a deep breath and shaking her head gently. When she looked up at him it was with an expression of determination coating her features.

"Ichigo," she said, her voice was soft and pliant. She looked to the side and began to fiddle with a stray spoon that had been left on the otherwise impeccable counter, "I need… I need to tell you something."

"About?" He demanded.

"About Rukia." She muttered.

Ichigo moved to stand near the counter and leaned slightly over it, his body pressing into the hard and cool marble. "What about Rukia?" He said in a voice that was barely anything more than a menacing growl.

Momo looked up at him and gulped lightly. Her eyes were wide and she was breathing a bit quicker than usual.

"About her heart."

Ichigo immediately took a step back. "Momo, if this is some sort of plan to get us to—"

"Oh shut up will you?!" She hissed lowly, sending sparse glances into the room where Rukia was asleep and then turning back to glare at Ichigo, "This has nothing to do with how you two feel about each other. That's none of my business," she swallowed hard and looked to the side, "I know that now…" She looked up and sighed, "No, this is about Rukia's heart, what was done to it, and how I hurt her this afternoon."

Ichigo's eyes narrowed slightly and he nodded once. He moved to the other side of the island to sit across from Momo. She swallowed once before she drew in a deep breath and closed her eyes for a moment.

Ichigo settled into his chair and leaned his elbow against counter.

"You ready?" She murmured.

Ichigo nodded, "Yes."

Momo set her hands in her lap and fiddled slightly with her fingers.

"I've known Rukia since I we were both freshmen in college." She started, "When we were roommates for the first year we _hated _each other." She smiled softly and shook her head, reminiscing. "She was so regimented—up every morning at five, running, breakfast, classes… she barely went to any parties. She barely drank—and even when she did it was that fancy-schmancy wine stuff. She didn't have any boyfriends. She focused only on her work, and—of course—what her brother demanded of her, academically."

Momo drew in a breath and continued, "I, on the other hand, partied a lot, I got drunk a lot, and I had a _lot_ of boyfriends." She closed her eyes for a moment and whistled lowly. "Yes I did… we were polar opposites of each other." Her grin grew and she let out a small chuckle. "But we grew to like each other. I don't know why, we just kind of clicked, you know? Yin and yang, Rocky and Bullwinkle, salt and pepper… that kind of thing. And after a while we were really good friends. We decided to room with each other the rest of the years while we were at college."

Ichigo nodded and listened intently to what she was saying.

"When we were juniors," Momo continued, "Rukia met Kaien Shiba. He was a teaching assistant to her advanced business teacher so he basically taught the class." She shook her head and looked off into the distance, "He was so handsome… believe it or not he looked almost exactly like you. Well, except his hair was black and his face was a bit longer. He wasn't as cut as you are either." She gave him a sideways glance and grinned, "And he didn't frown as much."

"Can we move on please?" Ichigo ground out, his hands clenched into fists. If there was one thing he was not really enjoying it discussing Rukia's previous flames.

"Sure, sure," she waved her hand and inhaled. "Anyway, Rukia fell for him and I'm pretty sure he did the same. They stayed later in class, they met for coffee, and sometimes they even went out to dinner."

"That doesn't sound like a lot." Ichigo muttered, seething inside.

Momo pursed her lips together and cocked her head to the side, "No, I guess not… but I think you have to understand something about Rukia…" Momo put her finger to her mouth and tapped it slightly, as if choosing her words carefully.

"When it comes to love… I guess Rukia's one of those old-fashioned types. She can't have fling after fling after fling. It's gotta be the real deal for her or else she only considers it a one-time thing. What you guys have is so unusual for her. It's just… not Rukia."

She sighed and swirled her finger on the countertop. "Ichigo, Rukia loves _fiercely._ It might not be out on her sleeve all the time but she does. Christ… she _loves_. She really does Ichigo. I mean, if you look at her from the outside you wouldn't know that she was in love but if you get her talking… her face will light up, she'll smile, and her eyes will just…_ shine_."

Ichigo ran through each mental image of Rukia and wondered if he had ever seen her eyes shine. He instantly shook his head and growled at the very thought of such a consideration.

"But then… one day," Momo sighed, "Kaien's wife came into the classroom."

Ichigo stiffened when he thought of what Rukia might look with a completely broken heart.

He shuddered.

"Rukia ran away and he followed her," Momo whispered, "He caught up with her and he told her that he could explain. She told him no and that he went on to say that he had entrusted his heart to her." She laughed hollowly. "_Right_ after she found out that he was just using her he told her that he had entrusted his heart to her… who does that?"

"Someone who wants to die," Ichigo growled.

Momo just raised her eyebrow at him.

"Go on." He muttered sourly.

"Rukia… I've never seen her so dead. She just _stopped_. She stopped running, she pretty much stopped eating—except then I forced her—she stopped laughing, the only thing that she really did was go to classes. She was practically destroyed. I mean, I've had boyfriends who I liked before and when they broke up with me I was sad, I cried, I ate chocolate, I gained weight, and then I wanted to get back at those guys so I lost the weight, flirted, and got a new boyfriend. That was my cycle." She shook her head, "But Rukia just died inside. She threw herself into her work, she barely spoke, she didn't notice any guys, and the only times she really met with anyone of the opposite sex was when she wanted to get laid. But those were few and far between.

"It took her so long to get over _him_ but… she finally did. I think she only finished getting over Kaien when I forced her to sign up for the dating website a few months ago." Momo muttered.

Ichigo nodded and then drew in a deep breath. The pit of his stomach was roiling with anger as he thought of the man who had made Rukia die inside.

_A man that looked like me_, he thought balefully. He blinked his eyes rapidly as he wondered if maybe that had been the reason why Rukia had been so hostile towards him in the beginning…

He also wondered if that was the reason why she had ended up finally sleeping with him.

_I'll find a picture,_ Ichigo thought darkly, _I'll find one and make sure. We can't look that much alike. We're two completely different individuals. He hurt Rukia… I didn't; we're nothing alike._

He was brought back to the present when he looked over at Momo, still sitting on the stool and chewing on her bottom lip.

"So what did you do?" Ichigo demanded quietly, still aware that Rukia was still asleep in her bedroom. "Or, what did you say to her today to make her so upset?"

Momo expelled a puff of air from her lungs and pouted her soft mouth. "I said so many horrible things to her."

"What kind of things?" Ichigo said, his voice quieter and deadlier.

Momo looked to the ground and blinked several times. It took him a moment to realize that there were tears misting in her vision. He immediately leaned back a bit from her and tried to steel himself against any feminine issues that Momo might be having sometime soon.

"I told her…" Momo lifted her head and bit her lip, tears were dusting her eyelashes but at least she wasn't crying. "I told her that she hadn't seen anything and that her love of Kaien had just been a little flirtation. I told her that she had only hit the tip of the ice berg and that I had seen much worse many more times than she had. I told her… I told she hadn't known what it was like to really be broken hearted." She sniffled slightly. "Or something like that." Her miserable head dropped to the ground and she closed her eyes. Ichigo watched as a tear fell down her cheek and dropped onto the floor below.

He would have cared that she was crying if it hadn't been for what she said two seconds ago.

"Why would you say something like that to her?" Ichigo demanded in a growl. "If you knew about her past then why the hell did you say something like that to her?"

Momo slid her eyes to the side and shook her head. "I'm not going to tell you."

That left Ichigo reeling. He blinked several times before feeling his teeth clenching hard. He breathed in deeply and narrowed his eyes at Rukia's best friend. Or, so called best friend anyway.

"Why not?" He demanded, his hand curled into a fist on the counter.

Momo lifted her eyes and glared at him determinedly. She shook her head once and slid off the side of her chair. Ichigo sat unmoving in his chair and watched her go with steady yet angry eyes.

Momo gathered her purse, clicked open the lock on the door, and turned the knob in her hand. She paused for a moment, leaned forward, and pressed her forehead against the cool wood.

"When she wakes up," she murmured, "Don't tell her I was here. She wouldn't want you to know what I've told you. Just say you ordered out. If she asks how you knew her favorite food there are circled menus in the drawer by the refrigerator. Eat with her, talk to her, and just… be with her, okay?" She turned her face to Ichigo and looked at him with mournful, heavy, guilt-laden eyes. "Just make sure she's okay and don't say anything about knowing her past. Just don't."

Momo and Ichigo stared at each other for a minute longer before Ichigo raised his head and nodded once. Momo nodded in return and slipped out of the door. She closed it softly behind her and Ichigo heard the lock click as she used her keys from the outside.

He was left sitting on the small chair at the counter, his hand in a fist, his breathing slightly hard. He ran over every single detail of Momo's little monologue within his mind and wondered what the hell that man had done to Rukia to make her love him so passionately. What had he done to her to make her so devoted to him that she would stop functioning… just for him? Just because of him? Did she really love like Momo said she loved? Powerful and solid and true? Did she?

He shuddered when his mind filled with images of Rukia lying in bed, eyes open, staring lifelessly into the ceiling, gave him chills like nothing he had ever felt before.

Getting up from his seat, he silently padded over to Rukia's bedroom and sat down in a chair opposite her peacefully sleeping form.

Tonight he would do what Momo said. He wouldn't leave her right now.

Not even as she slept.

*~*~*

Rukia's mind was swimming in a foggy haze. The weight of her thoughts was extremely heavy as she tried to focus the blurry daze of emotions, numbers, and phrases all running through her cranium. Somehow, a small moan escaped her throat and she tossed her head to one side. The weight of her skull against the pillows seemed overwhelming. She wanted to open her eyes but she really didn't think she could. Hell, she didn't know if she could even _think_ at this point!

Another moan made its way from her throat to her lips and immediately she felt something soft against her face. She leaned towards it, not exactly knowing what it was but not disliking it either.

She let a small sigh flow through her nose and her mouth and she shifted slightly against the pillows. Her hand came up to rest by her cheek and she felt something else brush against it. Her fingers curled involuntarily around the object and her lips moved up slightly.

"Rukia…"

She heard her name as though it was being called to her from underwater. With snail-like movements she groaned and tossed her head to the side again. She didn't want to get up. She was so heavy.

Suddenly, the warm thing on her face disappeared and she felt is come towards her cheek. The second one, which had already been on her cheek, made small, round, movements against her face. She smiled at the feeling yet still resisted the urge to open her eyes.

It was then that she felt something even softer than the objects on the side of her face. They descended upon her mouth and pressed against her lips. She sighed happily against whatever the hell it was and whimpered softly when they left. They were so warm… she wanted them back.

"Rukia," the voice was closer and not so distorted now. It seemed as though it was directly beside her ear. She felt something soft press against her mouth once again, her name thrumming in her ears as it descended, the rubbing on the side of her face was getting stronger, warmer, and faster.

"Wake up Rukia," the voice whispered, the softness pressing against her mouth once again.

It was then that Rukia knew what was going on.

She opened her eyes blearily and immediately saw that Ichigo was directly above her. His hands were on either side of her face, rubbing small circles with his thumbs, while his lips placed butterfly kisses on her mouth.

She sighed happily and this time raised her head just enough so meet him when he came down for a small kiss. Her lips closed around his and held for a moment before she allowed her head to fall back onto the pillows.

Ichigo didn't move to kiss her again. Instead, he simply hovered above her, his delightfully orange hair radiating in the soft glow of the hallway. She looked up into his face and blinked when she saw that his normal scowl wasn't completely in place. Its absence made his face look so much more… supple, happy, or maybe just more content. Though, whatever the expression on his face, she didn't care. She smiled up at him and languidly began to stretch. Her naked body moved against the silk sheets of her bed like water flowing over smooth pebbles. His form hovered over her as she slowly pulled all of the kinks and sores out of her body. She rolled her neck, arched her back, stretched her legs, extended her arms, and curved her body in as many poses as it took to get the feeling back.

"Hello," she murmured, her voice thick and husky from sleep. She blinked up at him and saw him staring at her face. She was quite surprised that he didn't stare at her as she stretched—as she would have thought he would have done—but instead, his eyes stayed riveted on her face. She smiled at him and reached a hand up to rub it along his rough cheek. "What time is it?"

Ichigo's lips quirked up into a grin and he raised one eyebrow. "Seven thirty four."

Rukia stayed boneless in the bed for one more moment before she bolted upright, her head narrowly missing Ichigo's skull, and shoved him off of her.

"What the hell? We're so late! Ichigo we need to be in the office by eight or else we'll not be able to finish the file and all we have to do and—"

Rukia continued with her constant stream of babbling as Ichigo simply sat on the bed. His expression was unreadable and quiet as he watched her race around her room—completely naked—while pulling open drawer after drawer in an attempt to find the shirt, the panties, the bra, and the skirt that she needed.

Rukia made a dive for the bathroom. "Why are you just sitting there? We're going to be completely dead it we—"

She stopped dead, several articles of clothing falling from her hands as she stood facing Ichigo, her eyes trained on the alarm clock near the side of her bed.

She blinked twice before frowning and turning to Ichigo. "P.M.? Seven thirty four _p.m._? Ichigo, what's… going… on…?"

Ichigo sat patiently on the bed, his expression still one of complete mystery as Rukia stood in the center of the room, clutching a now-wrinkled pencil skirt and staring blindly at the clock. Her entire body seemed frozen in time as she thought back to what had happened earlier today.

Ichigo hadn't spoken to her… Momo had yelled at her… Memories of Kaien… she had gone home… Ichigo had followed her… Ichigo had fucked her… Ichigo had… Ichigo had…

"What… happened?" She asked, her voice quiet even in the stillness of the room.

Ichigo sighed, stood up, walked over to her, which meant he towered over her, of course, looked her dead in the eye and spoke as clearly as he could, "You passed out."

Rukia immediately took a step back. "I did not." She spat out instantly. Her mind was whirling with the implications of such an accusation. Of course she hadn't passed out. Kuchiki's don't pass out—especially not during sex—it wasn't in their nature. No, she hadn't passed out. She never would have allowed herself to do so.

Then why was everything so fuzzy after Ichigo had finally thrust himself inside of her?

"No," Rukia said slowly, shaking her head and backing up just a bit more. She clutched her skirt to her chest and continued to move her head back and forth. "No, that's not possible, I wouldn't pass out."

"You did," Ichigo said as though he was just commenting on the weather. His arms were crossed over his bare chest and he was watching her with an expression of complete and utter calmness. Calm did not work with Ichigo. Power, yes. Hunger, yes. Strength, yes. But calm? No, not on Ichigo.

"B-But—" Rukia's mind was on overload as she tried to comprehend the fact that she had actually fallen unconscious while having sex… with _Ichigo_.

He raised an eyebrow at her and nodded to the kitchen. "Come on, I ordered Chinese. You like lo mien noodles, right?"

Rukia just looked at him dumbly and blinked.

His face broke out into a grin and he nodded towards a bathrobe hanging on her door. "Put it on so I won't have to spend the next two hours waiting for you to regain consciousness."

"But I didn't—" Rukia started. She paused and shoved her words back into her mouth. She closed her eyes for a moment and tried to think of what had happened after Ichigo had pressed her against the wall. She remembered being taken into the bedroom and having him… having him…

Rukia's eyes opened wide and her mouth dropped. "Oh my god. I _did _pass out."

"Yeah," Ichigo's voice floated in from the kitchen, "You did. Now come on, the food is getting cold."

Speechless as all get out, Rukia numbly reached for her bathrobe and slipped it over her body. Silently, she moved over to the mirror and checked her appearance. Other than a few strands of hair out of place she looked completely… content. The color had returned to her cheeks, the pallor in her lips was gone, her eyes were sparkling, albeit dully due to her fatigue, and her body felt warm and pink, as though she had just stepped out of a bubble bath.

Smiling softly, she ran her fingers through her ebony locks and loosened the neck of her robe slightly. Her footsteps gently pattered against the carpet as she moved from her room to her kitchen.

Ichigo stood under her soft lighting wearing nothing but a pair of pants and his skin. Rukia paused and leaned against the door jamb, silently watching him as he pulled out plates from the cabinet and found silverware in the drawers. A small smile arched her lips as she studied him. He poured the now steaming food onto respective plates and placed the forks on the outside.

He still didn't notice her as he walked over to her small table and set the plates down. It was only when he sighed in frustration, muttered, 'what's taking her so long,' and moved to go back to her bedroom did he actually notice she was watching him.

"Rukia," he murmured. His voice was low and she shuddered because it felt like it was running over her skin. She looked up at him, smiled softly, and casually moved away from her spot on the doorframe. She walked towards him with purposeful steps and that same smile still gracing her lips.

His mouth formed a small grin as well as she stopped in front of him and brought her eyes down to his collarbone. His breathing increased slightly as she bent forward and pressed a kiss against his warm, beautifully-smelling, skin.

Her tongue slowly emerged from her mouth as she stroked him. Her lips had found a small scar marring his chest and she touched it gently. Her tongue ran the entire length of it before she moved forward just a little bit more and pressed her body against his.

His arms wrapped around her tiny waist as he let her continue with her slow exploration. Her hands reached up and placed themselves on his warm pectorals. She sighed gently as her fingers rubbed into him. His breath became choppy as she pressed wet, open-mouthed, kisses onto his sternum. Her small fingers swirled around his nipples and she sighed as she blew hot air on her line of kisses.

"Rukia," Ichigo growled, his voice husky and warm. His arms tightened around her waist and she smiled into him when one of his hands started to snake down to her bottom.

"Yes?" She whispered, her fingers plucking playfully at his large brown nipples.

He bent his head and pressed his forehead against hers. She tilted her head back and brushed her nose against his.

"If we don't stop," he panted softly, "We'll never get to eat."

Rukia smiled and then arched her feet up until her mouth was directly beside his ear. She slowly placed her lips around his earlobe and sucked lightly. He shuddered under her fingers and groaned. Using a sultry and smoky voice she knew he couldn't resist she whispered, "I promise I won't pass out this time."

His arms tightened around her even more. Her entire body pressed against his and her hot breath laved his ear.

"Rukia," he groaned, burying his head into his neck. "Let's eat first. We have all night for that."

He sighed and gingerly removed his head from the warmth of her neck and shoulder. Smirking lightly, he bent his head and pressed a swift kiss to the seam of her lips. Rukia immediately opened to him and curled her arms around his neck. He pressed into her and she pressed into him as their tongues mingled. The kiss was slow and heated. Neither one of them seemed to have the desire to change their sizzling touches into the ones of heated passion that they usually had.

Rukia's fingers tangled in his hair and she tilted her mouth to the side to allow for easier access. His strong lips caressed hers and his tongue danced slowly inside of her mouth.

Rukia sighed as she felt something stir inside of her. It was a feeling that was… strangely warm. It started in the pit of her stomach and slowly spread to the tips of her fingers and her toes. Tendrils of sparkling, silken, beautiful heat pooled inside of her chest and began to wrap around the beating organ at the center of her being.

She gasped into his mouth and felt her knees become weak as the warmth continued to spread. She felt like she had been put on fire. Her skin began to heat and her mind fuzzed over until the only thing she could think of was Ichigo's lips on hers. The muscles in her arms contracted as she tugged Ichigo's head closer.

Her mouth became hungrier and hungrier as the warmth spread throughout her entire body. She dug her hand up into his hair and she pressed herself completely against him. Her body tingled with heat and she felt like it had been engulfed in flames. Her skin tightened as she moved one of her legs so it draped over Ichigo's buttocks.

His hands were no longer around her waist but at the sides of her face. He was gripping her head with a force that made it impossible for her to do anything but kiss him as passionately as she could.

Her body locked around his as she and he ravaged each other's mouths.

As they kissed, another strange sensation overcame Rukia. Her heart, which had been dutifully thumping inside of her chest, now felt the twinges of the same heat which had encased her entire body. It chipped away at the hardened, icy, shell that had formed over the years and began to worm its way inside. She gasped at the sensation and nearly cried out when she felt her heart begin to shudder with new and pulsating life.

Her heart… it was… _alive._

She jerked away from Ichigo and unfurled her leg from around his waist. His hands loosened from her face as she stumbled backwards.

"Ah!" She squeaked, her voice slightly hoarse from having most of it stolen by Ichigo's prying tongue.

He cried out as well as his hands came out and fumbled towards her. She flung her arms onto his and grasped them tightly in order to keep herself from falling. Another squeak escaped her mouth as she pulled herself against him. Her breathing was rapid and hard as he steadied her against his chest.

"Shit Rukia," he gasped, a hint of a laugh on the edges of his voice. "What the hell was that?"

"Sorry," she muttered, her lungs heaving against him and her head pointed downward. She was staring at the ground and trailing the patterns on the woodwork with her eyes. Her entire subconscious was completely focused on what was happening inside of her chest. Her heart, to be more precise.

She didn't know what the hell was happening. It felt like something was flaking off of the thrumming organ. Chip by tiny chip the flesh, the veins, and the muscles of her shuddering heart were being exposed. Their red, pink, and blue essences were flushing inside of her. Her heart seemed to speed up. It was pulsating, throbbing, and pounding in the center of her chest.

She shook slightly against him as she turned her head upwards. His eyes were bright and burning into hers and she gulped at the intensity that she saw.

Was it… was it him? Was he the one who was making her heart do these strange and ridiculous things? Why was it feeling like this? What was going… what was _going on_?

"Ichigo," she whispered, her voice still raspy.

He simply let loose a small chuckle from his throat and nodded towards the cooled food on the table. "Come on, I won't have you fainting from hunger on me."

"I'm not hungry," Rukia said blearily, the strange sensations of her heart still giving her much to puzzle over.

"I don't care," Ichigo snickered, taking her by the hand and tugging her towards the table. He pulled out her chair and she sat in her seat, still slightly dazed.

He sat down in his respective seat and pushed her plate of lo mien towards her. His mouth curled into a smile as he picked up his fork and began eating.

Rukia looked down at her plate and frowned softly, "Wait… how did you know what I liked? This is my favorite dish." She sniffed it appreciatively. "And it's from House of Wong's too! How did you—?" She whipped her head to his and stared at him with bewildered eyes.

Ichigo just smirked, "You have menus in one of your drawers. There were dishes circled. I thought they were your favorites so I got them." He eyed his Hunan chicken and vegetables and quirked up one eyebrow. "And I decided that I wanted this one."

Rukia blinked at him. "Oh."

"Yeah," he chuckled, "Common sense, thy name is _not_ Rukia."

"I have common sense," she sputtered. "I just… ah… didn't use it just then." She shoved her fork into her meal and brought it up to her lips. "So you just decided to go traipsing around my apartment while I was… _asleep_?"

Ichigo's smirk turned into a grin. "Yes, by the way, you have a very nice collection of thongs. How come you wear those granny-panties all the time?"

Rukia regarded him dryly. "I wasn't wearing them today."

"I know."

Ichigo's ridiculously smug grin was enough to make her want to throw noodles at him.

Instead she just grinned, sat, and ate with him in silence.

*~*~*

Two hours later, Rukia was lying silently with Ichigo. Her head was on his naked chest and her entire body was molded to his. One of her legs was thrown over both of his and her knee was lightly brushing his flaccid manhood. Rukia's fingers were lightly dancing on his chest, drawing out abstract patterns and strange symbols.

One of his hands was wrapped around her. His fingers were lightly tracing over her spine. The other hand was lying limply at his side.

Their bodies were covered in a thin sheen of sweat and their chests were rising and falling faster than was average.

Rukia's eyelashes brushed against his skin as she blinked. She felt so peaceful, so warm, and so content.

Suddenly, Ichigo shifted underneath of her. She groaned softly and placed her hand more solidly on his chest. He sighed and ended up leaning back against the pillows.

"I have to go home," he murmured, kissing the top of her head gently.

"Why?" She groaned, shifting her leg around and rubbing it against Ichigo's nearly constant erection.

He brought his hand down to still her leg and she frowned at his uncanny sexual perception. Who was he to subvert her stimulation trickery? He should want to stay here and continue to fuck her brains out.

"Tomorrow is Thursday." Ichigo whispered, rubbing his thumb against the length of her thigh. "It's not a weekend."

Rukia shook her head and sighed once again, that explanation being all she needed by means of an excuse. After another moment she put more power into her limp limbs and took her head from his chest, removed her leg from his grasp, and took her hand from his abdomen. She slid as far away from him as her bed would allow and clutched slightly at the sheets underneath of her body. The chill that pervaded her limbs now that his body heat was gone was almost palpable.

Ichigo stayed for one more minute inside of her bed before gently taking himself out and sitting on the edge. Rukia allowed herself to stare at his gorgeous body as he lifted himself and began to pull on his clothes.

There was no a single aspect of him that didn't seem to please her eyes. All of his body was rigged with beautiful muscle—from his strong legs to his defined abdomen to his cut arms. Everything about him was power, muscle, and stealth. Her eyes drank their fill as she watched him cover himself.

He turned back to her once he had all of his clothes—sans his jacket—on his body. Rukia was still lying on her bed, naked as the day she was born, with a few scraps of silky fabric left to cover the most erotic parts of her.

Ichigo grinned down at her and then leaned over, capturing her lips in a seductively sweet kiss.

"See you," he whispered as he turned away. "Don't forget to lock the doors."

"Okay," Rukia whispered against him. She desperately wished that he would stay, if only for an hour or something, but she knew that it would be best for the both of them if he left.

Rukia watched Ichigo walk towards her bedroom door as it he was in slow motion. Suddenly, all of the events of the night came crashing towards her in one swift blow. Her mind whirled as she thought of how Ichigo had acted that night she went to the theater with Renji, of how he had been for the past few days, and how he had barely spoken to her. She fast-forwarded until this afternoon. His possessiveness, his heat in bed, his ruthless mouth as he plundered her again and again… all of it made her stomach jump and churn.

Before she could stop herself her mouth open and she blurted, "I didn't sleep with him."

Ichigo froze immediately, his hand on the frame of her door. His head swiftly turned towards her and his face contorted into more than his usual frown.

"What?" He murmured.

Rukia cleared her throat and sat up in her bed, aware but not overly vigilant of her current state of undress, "I didn't sleep with him. Renji, I mean. We parted ways after we saw the movie. I never took him home. I've _never_ taken him home, actually. We've never been anything but friends."

He was staring at her with inscrutable eyes. They looked at each other for several more moments before Ichigo nodded once and murmured, "I… I think I knew that."

Rukia's eyes widened slightly, "You… you _knew_?" She shook her head and frowned, "But I don't understand… if you knew then…?"

"I think," Ichigo began, his voice low and smoky, "I think that I knew you wouldn't. I just… I guess I was just angry."

Rukia stared at him, dumbfounded. "But… why?"

He looked down at the ground and shook his head. "I'm not sure, Rukia." He looked up and stared at her with unreadable eyes. They gazed at each other for several breathless moments before he said, "I'm just not sure."

With that he turned towards the door and left. Rukia listened until she heard him grab his jacket, open the front door, pause, and then walk outside.

The moment she heard the final click of the latch Rukia's newly awakened heart thudded darkly and felt extremely bleak.

It was then that she realized what the feeling inside of her chest was.

**(A/N: HAPPY HOLIDAYS!**

**Oh, and don't forget to review!)**


	31. Chapter 30

**Disclaimer: I do not own Bleach or any Bleach affiliates.**

_**Odalisque**_

**Chapter 30**

Orihime Inoue's fingers twisted in the fabric of her dress as she sat inside of her apartment and read her newest letter. It had seemed like forever since she had last received one. She had even begun to think that things were moving on without her.

That simply would not do.

After all, hadn't Mr. Schiffer told her that she was instrumental for this _plan _that was going on? Wasn't she the rook? She was needed for _it_ to work. So why wasn't she being informed like they promised?

She bit her pouting lip and turned her head to the side while her fingers gingerly caressed the printed pages. Come to think of it, what was Mr. Schiffer doing, exactly? Was he taking pictures and following Mr. Kurosaki and that whore around? If so, where were these photos and why couldn't she see them? She wanted to know what that bitch had done to ensnare her Mr. Kurosaki. She wanted to know how she had desecrated his body to suit her own selfish needs.

Her eyes narrowed and she continued to bite her bottom lip as her eyes scanned over the pages once again. They were simple, typed pages with nothing extraordinary with which to distinguish them. She had checked for watermarks and the like but there was nothing. She sighed in frustration and told herself to ignore it. It wasn't her place to question things like this.

She was the rook, not the Queen.

Turning back to her paper, she read the letter for the fourth time.

_Ms. Inoue,_

_Patience is a virtue and soon yours will begin to pay off._

_However, before your final reward can be realized there are a few more things to be done. Attached is a plan for you to enact._

_Should you fail to complete this task the entire operation will crumble and you will not have the reward you desire._

_Once this task is complete the fruits of our labor will be realized and you, Orihime Inoue, will have Ichigo Kurosaki._

Like all of the letters she had previously received, this one was not signed. However something like that mattered little to Orihime Inoue. She didn't care as long as she got what she wanted in the end. She flipped the neatly typed page over and carefully read the instructions. Her stomach did flips as she realized what she would be doing.

"Oh my," she breathed, pressing one hand to her generous bosom while a slow smile curled around her perfectly pink lips.

She read over the details three more times before rising and taping in onto her refrigerator. She wouldn't have to act for another few weeks but having the paper there would keep her alert and watchful. She wanted to do her best when it came to this.

Slowly, she stretched out her body and began to hum a little tune, the scene playing out in her head while she mused.

*~*~*

Rukia's eyes watched as the door to the office opened and Ichigo walked in. She immediately shoved her head into her laptop computer once his first foot had made its entrance. Well, she hadn't shoved it literally, of course, but she needed something else to focus on other than the bobbing head of orange hair that was currently coming in her direction.

He shut the door behind him and sighed.

"Morning," he muttered, his voice heavy in the early hours.

"Good morning," Rukia squeaked back, her cheeks coloring slightly and her eyes still stubbornly focused on the paper in front of her.

Ichigo paused before he walked over to her desk, bent down, and swiftly pressed a kiss to her pink cheek. Rukia's head whipped up and she stared wide-eyed at him, gaping at his boldness and silently relishing the feel of his lips on her cheek.

"Ichigo!" She gasped, her liquid sapphire eyes staring up into his, "W-What was that for?"

He simply smirked down at her, "To get you to look at me."

Rukia's eyes widened and she swallowed hard. "O-Oh."

He raised an eyebrow. "You alright? You look a little… pink."

"I'm fine," she said as quickly as possible. "It's just a little warm in here."

He grinned at her. "If you wanted we could make it warmer."

Rukia shot him a death glare but couldn't help the small gleam of amusement that came into her eyes. "I think that if we did anything more that would increase the temperature our clothes would end up catching on fire."

He leaned closer until his lips were brushing against hers, "Who says our clothes will be on?"

She grinned against him and shook her head lightly. "We need to get to work. We have all the time for upping the heat this weekend."

He groaned and pressed a quick kiss to her lips, "Fine… spoilsport." He pulled away from her and trudged over to his desk. Rukia watched him go with her heart pounding heavily.

She immediately turned her head and tried to focus on her work.

That, of course, was completely impossible. She realized this once she started sneaking glances over at Ichigo every three minutes. Three minutes became two, two became one, and now she was a slave to his appealing appearance ever couple of seconds.

She growled angrily at herself and did everything she could to stop from pinching her arm. This was ridiculous. It was stupid. She needed to focus on her work. She couldn't start going off into la-la land whenever she wanted to just because Ichigo was there and looking extremely sexy in his suit.

_He looks like that all the time!_ She screamed inwardly as she caught herself looking at him again. _Why is this time any different?_

She glared at her computer screen. She knew the answer to her question. She knew it very well.

It _might_ have something to do with that feeling inside of her chest she received every single time she looked at him.

She shook her head and practically told herself to just ignore it. She _needed_ to ignore it because, like everything else she was doing, it was _completely_ ridiculous. She wasn't feeling _that_ for Ichigo Kurosaki. She must simply be misinterpreting something like… ah… heartburn for _that_. Yes, that was it, it was just heartburn. Or acid reflux. Or… or…

She pressed her hand to her forehead as fear entered the pit of her belly.

Rukia was nearly about to propel her subconscious into the frightful analysis of what, exactly, that feeling inside of her chest was when there was a soft knock on the door.

_God bless interruptions._

Ichigo's head rose and he frowned over at her. Rukia just shrugged and nodded her head towards the door. "Come in," she called.

The door creaked open softly and after a moment a young woman with auburn hair and a very large chest passed over the threshold.

_Never mind._

Rukia and Ichigo immediately looked back at their work and attempted to seem very, very, _very_, busy.

"Hello Mr. Kurosaki," Inoue said in a chipper, happy voice. Rukia's blood simmered at her tone and she inwardly growled. She raised her head slightly and sent the young woman a soft glare. It wasn't threatening enough to look like an actual murderous threat but it was mean enough to look exceedingly evil.

"Hello Miss Inoue," Ichigo muttered in an uninterested voice. Rukia looked over to him and grinned when she saw how intently he was staring at his blank papers.

"Hello Ms. Kuchiki," Inoue said, her voice completely different from the one she had used to greet Ichigo. Her voice was slightly deadpanned and it was even edged in a few hostile overtones.

"Good morning Miss Inoue," Rukia ground out, an unpleasant feeling running through the base of her stomach.

There was a pause in conversation as Inoue stood in the center of the room and rocked back and forth on her heels.

_Oh Christ not this again,_ Rukia muttered mentally, recalling another time when she had had to pry the mediocre information out of Inoue. She narrowed her eyes and knew instinctively that she was just here to ogle Ichigo.

_Her_ Ichigo.

"Did you need to tell us something, Ms. Inoue?" Rukia demanded through gritted teeth.

Her head snapped over to Rukia's and she could have sworn that murder was written in Inoue's eyes. The young woman's jaw was clamped shut, her gaze was narrowed, and her face was set in angry lines.

"Yes, actually," she cleared her throat and held her hand up, displaying it only to Rukia since Ichigo still wasn't looking in her direction. "I was told to give these to you." She walked stiffly over to Rukia's desk and tossed a small envelope on the top of her laptop. Rukia raised an eyebrow and monitored her progress as she strode over to Ichigo's desk, held the ticket in her hand, and waited for him to look up.

It took him two whole minutes.

"Hm?" He asked as he pulled his head up and stared blankly at Inoue, his face trying to convey the boredom that his brain must certainly not be feeling. Rukia knew that he hated it when Inoue came into their office. She knew the history between the two and she didn't blame him one bit. Inoue could be downright creepy when she wanted to be.

"Here's yours Mr. Kurosaki," she purred, bending over just a bit more at the waist and proffering the small envelope, all the while pressing her mountainous breasts further into his space.

"Uh, thanks," Ichigo grumbled, his hand reaching out to pluck the envelope from her grasp without actually touching her. Rukia watched the interaction intensely and could have sworn that Inoue twitched her hand just so her fingers would brush up against Ichigo's.

"What is it?" Rukia demanded, wanting to get Inoue's attention away from Ichigo… although she doubted it could be done.

Inoue looked straight at Ichigo—who was pointedly ignoring her gaze—while she spoke to Rukia. "It's an invitation to the office holiday party being held."

Rukia raised an eyebrow and stared at the envelope. Sure enough, stamped on the front of it was the Suigetsu Inc. seal along with a small branch of green and gold embossed holly. Her name was written on the paper in elegant letters along with her position in the company. She flipped open the envelope and looked at the small ticket.

"'You have been invited to the annual Suigetsu Incorporated Holiday Party.'" She read softly, "'To be held from eight at night to two in the morning on Friday, December the nineteenth, dressy-casual attire is required.'" She raised an eyebrow and quickly flipped open her calendar on her computer. "Damn… that's only in… about two weeks." She pressed a hand to her forehead and muttered softly to herself. "I can't believe it's already December. Christ, where has the fucking time gone?"

A voice from the other side of the room stopped her train of thought, "You shouldn't curse so much, you know."

Rukia raised her head and blinked twice at the woman still standing dangerously close to Ichigo's desk.

She glared at her coldly and raised an eyebrow, "Was that all you had to tell us, Miss Inoue?"

Rukia's eyes followed her as she sidled closer to the wood of Ichigo's desk. She glanced over at Ichigo and saw her lover glower in irritation at the persistent young woman. He glanced over at Rukia and gave her an annoyed and exasperated glance.

Rukia returned the stare, simply stating that yes, the feeling was mutual.

"It was," Inoue confirmed, reaching out and lightly tracing some patterns on Ichigo's desk. It was as if she wished it could be his chest.

_Yeah, but _I'm_ the only one who's allowed to do _that_,_ Rukia thought smugly.

She opened her mouth and said as politely as she could, considering the circumstances, "Well then, would you care to leave, we have a lot of work to be doing and your presence is a bit of a distraction."

The look Inoue gave her could have cut though the hardest and deepest of ice.

Rukia just grinned.

"Of course Ms. Kuchiki." She said, her voice harder than Rukia had ever heard it before. She stiffly strode to the door and opened it wide. Rukia watched her retreating back with smug satisfaction but scowled when the young woman left the door entirely open.

Growling, she stood up and stomped over to the damn thing and shut it with a very audible slam.

Ichigo exhaled at his desk and threw a hand over his face, "Christ! I think she just gets worse by the _week_."

Rukia put her hands on her hips as she strode over to him. "It's your fault for making out with her in the first place." She stopped in front of his desk and placed both hands on the top. She leaned forward so that her ass was sticking out and her breasts were clearly visible through the gap in her blouse.

Hey, if Inoue could do it, she could too.

She saw where Ichigo's gaze first went but had to give him commendation when his stare returned to her own eyes.

"That might be partly true," he said, leaning forward as well until his lips were three inches away from hers. "If it weren't for the fact that she was the one constantly giving me alcohol that night at the Christmas party."

"Oh really?" Rukia smirked, doing her best to parrot Ichigo's seemingly permanent look. Only it wasn't permanent, she knew that very well. He rarely scowled while sleeping and his orgasmic-scowl was very different from his run-of-the-mill everyday scowl.

"Really," he said, "Every time she came around she was always holding another jello-shot or another beer for me. Not to mention it was Orihime Inoue who dragged me into this office."

Rukia cocked an eyebrow, "_This_ office?" She pointed a finger to the desk her hands were currently on and began to curl them in distaste.

"I made sure to put in a maintenance request to have the janitors thoroughly clean it," he said breezily as his hands came out to capture her wrists. "But yeah, I was so drunk though, I probably would have made out with a monkey."

"Hmm…" she murmured, sliding her hands out of Ichigo's grasp and walking around to his side of the desk. "You know, you made out with Inoue on this desk… I really don't know how I feel about that…"

She gave him a coy grin and moved until her body was in front of him. Ichigo obliged her by moving his desk chair back a bit. She ran her hot eyes over his form—so relaxed in his chair—and grinned when she saw the slight protrusion in his pants.

"What are you going to do about it?" Ichigo demanded, his throat constricting slightly.

Rukia grinned at the sound of his strangled question and slowly sat back on his desk. She propped one foot up on the chair directly in between his legs and spread her own legs just a little bit more. She watched him swallow hard and grinned even more.

"I think we're going to have to christen this desk ourselves." She said calmly as she slowly reached up and pulled her hair out of its restrictive bun. She ran her fingers through the silken tresses and then dragged her hand down her neck to the front of her shirt. She watched Ichigo carefully as she unbuttoned the first two buttons; thus allowing her beige lace bra to show through.

His gulp was audible.

"I thought you didn't want us to do this type of stuff at work." He commented hoarsely.

Rukia leaned forward and moved her arms so she could press her breasts together. Ichigo was almost salivating at the cleavage being shown.

She stopped moving only when her mouth was level with his ear. "Maybe, if you're a good boy and go lock the door, and maybe, if you're quiet enough, then… just _maybe_… I could take care of that little problem you have." Her foot tapped against his rock-hard erection as she flicked her tongue out and slid it over the shell of his ear.

Ichigo shuddered violently and was out of his chair in less than a second. Rukia could barely blink before she heard the click of a lock and saw that Ichigo was back in his chair, his expression one of impatience and pain.

She grinned and slowly brought her hands to the side of her skirt. She hopped off of the desk and began to pull the zipper down. She watched Ichigo as he studied her fingers with the intensity of a student trying to ace an exam. His breathing increased as she pulled the zipper slowly over every single tooth. Her skirt dropped to the floor and she stepped forward. Her hands were on his buckle and without a single word being passed between them, she yanked open his pants and began to fondle his erection.

Rukia leaned down and whispered into Ichigo's ear. "How badly do you want me?"

Her tongue teased his earlobe and her hands worked up and down the smooth flesh of his hot erection as he stuttered and jerked, "B-badly—oh fuck baby… really bad."

"I see," Rukia grinned, pressing her thumb to the tip of his ripe penis. She grinned when he jerked in his seat and groaned. "Shh," she warned, "I wouldn't want Inoue to hear us."

"Let her hear," Ichigo ground out, his hands finally coming to her hips as he hooked his thumbs into her underwear. "Maybe then she'll get the goddamn _message_."

Rukia's underwear was around her ankles when she finally took the initiative to slowly climb onto his body. He shuddered violently when she grabbed his cock and dragged it over her slick folds.

"Well then," Rukia murmured as her lips hovered over his, her hands on his cock, his hands on her hips, "Let's do this, shall we?"

*~*~*

Orihime glared at Mr. Kurosaki's office door and wondered what they were doing.

_You're not wondering, _her mind intoned, _you _know _what they're doing._

"Patience," she grumbled, her bottom lip pulling itself out into a pout. She sighed and returned to typing a memo on her computer, all the while trying to ignore the dirty thoughts that were plaguing her.

Ten minutes passed in relative peace when suddenly, a muffled shout drifted from the door at which she had been staring. Orihime's eyes widened and her mouth dropped open completely. Her fingers immediately stilled on the keyboard and she trained every last bit of her energy on that single door.

Silence.

She gaped and wildly looked around the hallway. No one else seemed to have heard it. They simply went along their merry way; they walked from copier to office, office to computer… and none of them had heard that damned sound!

Orihime pressed a hand to her forehead and wondered if she was imagining things. She probably was. Because, after all, it wouldn't be the first time. She bit her lip and tried to ignore the ever-increasing ire inside of her heart.

She couldn't.

How dare that _whore_ seduce Mr. Kurosaki when he was trying very hard to get his work done? How dare she? The little harlot was probably just trying to distract him so he wouldn't be able to do his papers. Then she'd tell Mr. Aizen about it later and Mr. Kurosaki would get in trouble! All because of her!

_Go!_ Her mind screamed, _go and interrupt them! Expose them! Do what you should have done a long time ago!_

Orihime gritted her teeth and shook her head against such thoughts and recalled the words that had been sustaining her ever since she had received her last letter.

"_Patience is a virtue and soon yours will begin to pay off… However, before your final reward can be realized there are a more things to be done… attached is a plan for you to enact… Once this task is complete the fruits of our labor will be realized and you, Orihime Inoue, will have Ichigo Kurosaki."_

Orihime smiled happily as she recalled the last line.

"'You, Orihime Inoue, will have Ichigo Kurosaki,'" she whispered gleefully. She raised her hands and clapped them together.

"You seem very well today, Ms. Inoue."

She gasped slightly at the voice and nearly flipped out of her chair. Her pretty red hair whirled around her shoulders and she blinked her eyes innocently as she beheld the man before her.

"Mr. Ishida," she said, her tone sugary and sweet, "How nice to see you. You hardly ever visit me anymore! I was beginning to think something was wrong!"

The pale and thin man wearing the metal-rimmed glasses bowed his head gently, his soft black hair falling into his face as he did so. "My apologies, Ms. Inoue, I've been very busy lately. The company has had some trouble with our Russian extension. I've been kept quiet distracted by them."

Orihime tilted her head to the side and smiled beatifically. "Oh! Well, you're the best man for the job, I suppose then, Mr. Ishida!"

"Yes," he said, pushing his glasses up his nose with his middle finger, "I suppose so…" his head trailed over to the side and he frowned at the door to Mr. Kurosaki office.

_It belongs to the harlot too,_ her mind told her sourly and for a moment her perfectly happy face drifted away.

"I was wondering," Mr. Ishida said politely, "If Kurosaki was busy. Would you happen to know Ms. Inoue?"

"Please," she giggled, "How many times do I have to tell you Mr. Ishida? Call me Orihime."

He bowed his head again but this time, she suspected, he did it to hide the bits of pink that tinged his cheeks. "I'm afraid I shall only start doing that when you start calling me Uryu, Ms. Inoue."

_What a giant bore_, she thought as she mentally rolled her eyes, _at least Mr. Kurosaki is a bit dangerous._

She grinned and tilted her head to the side, "Well then I guess we're at a stalemate, Mr. Ishida." She giggled and pressed her neatly manicured fingers to her mouth.

"Yes," he said, blushing and looking down at his toes, "I suppose we are."

They stood there for several moments in an uncomfortable silence. At least, Orihime thought it was uncomfortable for Mr. Ishida, she was thinking about Mr. Kurosaki saving her from zombies.

"So," he said after a few moments, unhappily snapping her out of her small reverie. "Do you believe that Kurosaki is busy?"

Orihime grinned, "I don't believe so… I mean no more than normal of course." She allowed her face to become slightly dreamy, "He must work _so_ hard."

She ignored the small glint in Mr. Ishida's eyes. "Yes… he must. It is what Suigetsu Incorporated should expect from _all_ of its employees." He emphasized. He stood there for a few more seconds before clearing his throat and inclining his head towards the office. "Then I'll just go and see him… them."

"Okay!" Orihime giggled. She raised her hand and waved as Mr. Ishida took off down the hallway.

Once he was out of her range of sight she put her hand down and rolled her eyes. Talking to that man was so tiresome. Did he have to be so in love with her? He knew that her heart was already taken. She had explained it to him before. Orihime frowned softly and went back to sitting at her computer. If she wanted a man who was spidery and pale and could sew and knit then she would have gotten him already. It wouldn't have been all _that_ hard, if she was to be completely truthful. She knew how his eyes lingered on her form, how he smiled whenever she made jokes, and how his hands would clench at his side whenever he saw her wearing low cut shirts.

However those low cut shirts weren't for him, her laughs weren't for him, none of that was for anyone but Mr. Kurosaki.

She gritted her teeth and forced a smile onto her face.

_Once this task is complete the fruits of our labor will be realized and you, Orihime Inoue, will have Ichigo Kurosaki._

"Mrs. Orihime Kurosaki," she said again, relishing the taste of the name on her tongue.

*~*~*

Ichigo sat at his desk, his pen shaking lightly in his hand.

Rukia sat at her desk, completely calm.

Ichigo's breathing was slightly out of control and his heart was thumping at an irregular pace.

Rukia looked like she had calmly walked into the door.

Ichigo had sweat beading on his forehead.

Rukia's skin looked as clean as a newborns'.

Ichigo could not believe that she had just had sex with him… in their office… in his chair… on his desk.

_Rukia Kuchiki_ had _sex_ in an _office building._

Was he dreaming?

He pinched himself to be sure. Nope, he was awake.

Ichigo blinked twice and raised his head to look over at Rukia. She looked absolutely no different than when she had first come in this morning. All cool and calm and sleek. There was absolutely nothing about her that would indicate that she had just had sex with another human being on the top of a desk in the middle of the morning.

"Did that really just happen?" Ichigo was surprised both that such a sentence actually came out of his mouth and that his voice croaked so badly he sounded like a frog.

Rukia coolly lifted her head from her desk and nodded slowly. "Of course." She sent him a swift grin and went back to signing her name to a few papers. She pushed a stray lock of hair behind her ear and began to hum a little tune.

Ichigo's pen nearly dropped out of his hand.

"But you… but we…" he gaped and swallowed hard, trying to remember how all of this had started in the first place.

Rukia looked up again and raised an eyebrow, "Ichigo, we had sex on your desk… not but two minutes ago. You need to stop looking like you just saw a ghost."

"I do not look like that," he countered lamely, knowing perfectly well that he did. "I'm just… surprised, I guess."

She tilted her head to the side, "About what?"

Ichigo had to fight to keep the muscles in his jaw working properly. "W-Well because… ah, you made it perfectly clear that we were never supposed to do any of that touchy-feely stuff at work."

She raised both eyebrows this time, "Are you saying that it _shouldn't_ have happened?"

"No!" He practically shouted, his hands gripped the armrests of his chair tightly. God-forbid if she ever took that kind of pleasure away from him. "It's just that… that… ah, I didn't peg you for someone who would do it at work, that's all."

"Ichigo," she smirked, "No one was around. The door was locked. It's not like we were going to be caught on tape or something."

"I know," he muttered, his face flushing at her logic—normally _he_ was the one who had the more coherent thoughts during and after sex. "You just kind of surprised me, that's all. I'm not saying that was a bad thing because God knows it wasn't."

She smiled softly and said, "Good," before turning back to her work and flashing her pen back and forth across the paper. Another tune thrummed through her throat as she worked.

Ichigo just blinked at her.

He cleared his throat and tried to sound casual as he said, "Oh, and I forgot to mention, feel free to repeat that whenever you feel the need."

She grinned but didn't look up. "Dork."

Ichigo grinned as well but snorted in his defense, "Am not."

"Are too," Rukia chided as she turned over a paper. "But that's okay. It's how I like yo—my men." She pushed her hair behind her ear and sent him another sultry look. "Dorky, domineering, damnable, and downright-sexy. How many more d's can I come up with?"

"Playing word games are we now?" He smirked. He leaned over his desk and inhaled discreetly. He caught the scent of sex practically seeping off of the wood.

"Well," Rukia chuckled darkly, "I need to do something with my mouth now that it's no longer… _occupied_."

Ichigo's stomach lurched and his playful grin dropped like a stone through water. "You could put it to better use right now."

Rukia just shook her head and flicked her pointer finger back and forth, "Tsk, tsk, Kurosaki, didn't anyone ever tell you to save room for dessert _later_?"

"Sorry," he smirked, "But my dad always told me I could have my cake and eat it too."

"Is that what you'd like to do?" Rukia demanded in a sizzling tone, "Eat it?" She placed her elbows on the table and pushed her breasts into his view.

"Yes," he answered immediately, pushing his chair back slightly and readying himself to get up.

Rukia was about to respond when she heard a sharp and quick knock on the door. She was out of her seat in less than a second.

"Coming," she called and Ichigo thought he heard a soft note of panic in her voice. He gulped when he realized that they had never unlocked the door.

_Oh shit…_ he mentally grumbled and prayed to whatever God was out there that she opened the door before whoever that was tried to open it from the outside.

Their luck prevailed as Rukia gently slid the lock out of place and opened the door in one quick move.

She stood silently at the door for a moment before Ichigo heard her say, "Hello Mr. Ishida, please come in."

Ichigo felt like shooting someone. Particularly someone who wore glasses and liked to sew. He glowered softly as Rukia strode back into her seat and Uryu walked calmly into the office.

"Kurosaki," he said in a voice that was stiff and unwelcoming.

"Ishida," he grumbled back; if the man wanted formalities he'd sure as hell give him formalities. Ichigo sent him a dark glare and silently mourned for the lost second go-round with Rukia. His tongue was practically calling out for the sweet juices he _would _have been imbibing right now had it not been for this asshole.

Ichigo didn't even know what he wanted. They hadn't really spoken all that much since the merger announcement. Ichigo grimaced when he thought of Uryu still being mad at him for the whole Inoue thing. He silently recalled their last conversation about her and sighed.

Yep, the psycho-creep was probably the reason why he and Uryu had been so distant in the past few months.

"Kurosaki," Uryu said, pulling Ichigo out of his brief trance, "I wanted to have a word with you about the merger and how it could affect our dealing with certain countries. Do you have time to go over it?"

"I'm kind of busy right now _Ishida_," Ichigo growled, putting a little more emphasis on Uryu's surname than was necessary. "Maybe we can do it tomorrow."

Uryu only craned his neck to look back at Rukia—who was pointedly ignoring their conversation—turned back to Ichigo, sniffed the pungent air, and raised one eyebrow.

"I'm sure that you and Ms. Kuchiki have been _very_ busy, Kurosaki," he said in a clear and clipping tone. Ichigo's eyes shot over to Rukia and saw that her cheeks had colored somewhat. Uryu brought him back with a sharp clearing of his throat, "However, this needs to be done today and I would appreciate it if you could take time away from your busy _work_ schedules to oblige me." He crossed his arms over his chest and glared at the man sitting in the desk.

It took Ichigo all of three seconds to get out of his chair and stand in front of his _friend_. If he could even call him that anymore.

"Let's go jackass." He snarled.

Uryu nodded his cool, pale, face once and turned towards the door. His hand was directly on the knob when a soft, calm, voice stopped him in his tracks.

"Mr. Ishida," Rukia said, garnering the attention of both men in attendance. She didn't even look up from the papers she was signing, her pen didn't slow and her arm never wavered as she spoke.

"If you tell anyone about this, and I do mean _any_one, I will personally work to _completely_ ruin you."

She paused her pen but didn't look up at either of them. "Do you understand?"

Ichigo shuddered at the amount of venom in her chilling voice. He had never heard such malice in her tone before. It made him almost fear for his own safety and reputation.

He glanced over at Uryu and saw that he had noticed the exact same thing. His friend gulped softly and nodded once. "Of course, Ms. Kuchiki. Of course."

"I didn't ask you that," she said just as vehemently as before, although somehow she managed to make the statement also sound breezy and cool. "I asked if you understood." She finally raised her head and stared icebergs at Uryu Ishida. "Do you?"

He quailed silently under her stare but fought not to let it show. He nodded again and said, "I understand, Ms. Kuchiki, you have nothing to fear from me."

"Excellent," she said, her tone becoming airy once again. "Have fun sorting out the continents."

She smiled sweetly at them and returned to signing the documents in front of her.

Ichigo and Uryu left without another word; although they both wore the same expression—fear mixed with awe.

As they walked down the hall Uryu turned to Ichigo and shook his head, "You have one scary girlfriend Kurosaki."

Ichigo only grinned. "She's not my girlfriend Uryu. But yeah, I'm kind of surprised you didn't piss in your pants back there."

"My bladder control is not the issue Ichigo," he sighed after staring strangely at him for a moment. Ichigo fought to keep his face stoic as Uryu begrudgingly muttered his first name. "That woman though," he pointed back to their office and shook his head. "Is… _frightening._"

Ichigo just smirked, "You should see her in bed."

Uryu smirked in return, "I doubt you'd ever let me."

"Damn straight."

The two continued to walk down the hall together, talking about women, sex, and anything else that came to mind. As they strode Ichigo made a mental note to thank Rukia when he saw her again.

_If not for her scary-as-shit face I wouldn't have my friend back, _he thought, somewhat happy to have his slightly-queer companion back.

Ichigo grinned when he thought of all she had given him today.

_Today was the best day _ever.

*~*~*

Rukia moved into the lunchroom and quickly bought her salad and bottled water. The tuna sandwiches were rumored to be putrid today so she didn't even bother going over to check them out. She hummed lightly to herself as she paid that cashier and thanked him with a small smile. He grinned back as Rukia lightly strode away to her usual table.

Ichigo hadn't come back from his meeting with Uryu. She brushed a free hand through her hair and gently let it fall around her face. It was probably best that he stayed though. If Ichigo was away from her then that meant that she wouldn't be in danger of jumping him again.

Rukia's cheeks colored when she thought of what had happened between them. What _she_ had instigated.

"Desk sex," she muttered half-heartedly as she plopped into her seat. Her satiated center rubbed against the plastic of her seat through her clothing and she bit her lip to stop the sensations. "I can't believe I actually had _desk sex_."

She sighed as she opened the plastic cover on top of her salad and poured on the cool dressing.

She should be thankful that Ichigo hadn't noticed anything else though. Although that really shouldn't have been surprising considering that he had a skull thicker than lead. He wouldn't have noticed the small things that she had done during their little bout on the desk. Hell, _she_ hadn't even noticed that she had done them until afterwards.

She pushed her fork into her mouth and sighed. Things like massaging his scalp with the soft pads of her fingers, sensually kissing his neck, and squeezing him gently inside of her as he thrust himself inside of her were all things that had never happened whenever they had _normal_ sex.

That is, animalistic sex.

Rukia swallowed and quietly wondered why more panic was not settling into her stomach. She should be panicking right now, shouldn't she? After all, realizing something _that_ big was bound to warrant a bit of panic, wasn't it?

Wasn't it?

Rukia sat there, silently contemplating whether or not she should be nervous of the fact that there were no knots in her stomach. She was midway through her irritating meditation when a small shadow fell over the table. Her body stiffened as she recognized the trademark bun. She blinked twice.

"Momo," she said slowly, careful to enunciate every syllable even though there were green leaves in her mouth.

There was a slight pause before she heard Momo swallow and say, "Are you ever going to speak to me again?" The horror inside of her tone was enough to melt Rukia's heart just a bit.

She raised her head and then allowed an eyebrow to follow in the same pattern. "I'm speaking to you now, aren't I?"

Momo stood before her, trembling slightly and clutching her purse like a lifeline. Rukia's eyes scanned her body and widened slightly when she analyzed what she saw. Momo looked gaunt. Her cheeks were a pale white and her normally rosy nose was dull. Her eyes looked heavy and dark purple shadows were clouding them even further.

Rukia blinked twice and swallowed her food. "You've really been beating yourself up about this, haven't you?"

Momo paused before she nodded once. She looked apprehensive; like at any moment Rukia was going to become a three-headed snake and rip her into tiny pieces.

Rukia sat silently for a few moments before she did something that she knew even Momo could not have predicted.

She smiled.

"It's okay Momo," she nodded to the seat across from her and said, "Come on, get some lunch and we'll talk."

Rukia barely blinked before she saw Momo's eyes fill with tears. "I thought you'd hate me." She whispered throatily.

Momo was standing stock still in the middle of the cafeteria, her hands clutching her bag, tears brimming out of her eyes, and shivers constantly shooting down her spine. Before she knew was she was doing Rukia stood up from her chair and wrapped her arms around her best friend.

"Shh," she whispered, rubbing her back with her hand as Momo placed her head on Rukia's shoulder. For some reason, the fact that they were in a very crowded eating area was of little consequence to Rukia. She ignored all of the stares that she normally would have paid attention to only a scant few months ago. "It's okay Momo," she said as the woman's hot tears seeped through her clothing. "Don't worry about it."

She slowly detached Momo from her shoulder and wiped her thumb under her drooping eyes, clearing away any tears that might have remained. "Come on," she said, laughing half-heartedly, "For all the misery I've put you through over the years you certainly deserved a day to curse me out."

"But I said so many awful things," she blubbered as she sniffed like a little child. "I even brought up… you know… _him_." She bit her lip and shook her head, "Even when you're angry with me you _never_ mention any of my exes."

"This is true," Rukia agreed with a nod as she rubbed her best friend's shoulder, "But its okay, Momo, really. Everything is fine."

Momo dug a fast-food napkin out of her purse and blew her nose into it. Rukia took a slight half-step back and dropped her hand from Momo's shoulder.

"You sure?" She asked, sniffling pathetically and staring at Rukia with eyes filled with salty-liquid.

Rukia just nodded, "I'm sure Momo. Really, I am." She smiled and nodded to the food. "Go and get something to eat. We'll talk more after that."

Momo sniffled again and nodded her head. She turned away from Rukia and began walking towards the food, slumping in a way that made it look like she had just gotten a scolding from her strict mother.

Rukia sighed and sat down in her uncomfortable seat. Trust Momo to be able to take guilt to a whole new level. The girl had practically wasted away in the twenty four hours that had elapsed since she had said all of those awful things to her.

She shoved another forkful of lettuce into her mouth and thought back to what Momo had said to her yesterday. All those things about Kaien… about being new at this whole loving thing… about how she was afraid… everything that she had said…

It had all been true.

Momo sat gingerly down in her seat and carefully placed her bag on the empty side of the table. She swallowed and sent skittering glances in Rukia's direction. Silently, she unwrapped her own salad, poured the dressing overtop, and began to nibble.

They sat like that for several minutes. Neither of them bothering to say a single word as they ate.

By the time lunch was nearly halfway finished Momo coughed in her throat and looked up at Rukia. She looked straight back at her friend and drew in a deep breath.

Through Rukia's mind ran every single time Momo had always been there for her; she thought of their days in college, their days starting out at work, and of today. She thought of all the times that Momo had let her use her shoulder to cry on when the memories became too painful to bear. She thought of all the times they had laughed at television shows while they stuffed their faces with too much ice cream. She thought of their Sunday runs and how Momo was always trying to get her to notice men. All of these things were present in her mind as she stared deeply at her best friend, wondering, pondering, and seriously contemplating whether or not she should disclose something so earth-shatteringly personal that it had the potential to make or break both their friendship and their lives.

"Oh screw it," she sighed and she placed her fork strategically on the table, aligning it with her napkin just so. Rukia put her hands on the table and folded them together. She straightened her spine, cleared her throat, and set her clear, sapphire eyes, on her best friend.

"Momo," she began.

The young woman sat up straighter in her chair and leaned forward. Her eyes looked painfully hungry to regain the trust she had damaged yesterday. She drew in a deep breath and exhaled fitfully. "Yes?" She asked calmly, although Rukia could tell she was breathless with anticipation.

Rukia bit her bottom lip and swallowed hard.

She _could_ do this.

"I have something to tell you."

**(A/N: Okay, I know it's time to update when I get personal emails from people begging me to post another chapter. To those who did, **_**thank you**_**, I've been so busy that I've completely forgotten.**

**Also, on a side note, I have written basically nil in the past two months. I'm currently slapping my wrist in agitation yet it is true. So chapters might be less frequent than the current less frequent. Ah… sorry. Although I did write today… if that's any consolation.**

**Anyway, a bit of Inoue and Ishida in this chapter. Finally got to them. Hope everyone enjoyed it!**

**DON'T FORGET TO REVIEW!!!**

**BTW, this fic is getting very close to page 600 on Microsoft word. Just thought I'd let you know. :D )**


	32. Chapter 31

**Disclaimer: I do not own Bleach or any Bleach affiliates.**

_**Odalisque**_

**Chapter 31**

Two weeks passed by in a blur for Rukia.

The days were filled to the brim with work, friends, and sex. It was always one to the next. Tantalizing kisses with Ichigo at work—they hadn't repeated their little desk tryst… yet—laughing with Momo at lunch, helping her to plan her wedding, and quietly signing away papers as she and Ichigo stole glances at one another.

The days just seemed to go by far too quickly. But now wasn't the time to be thinking about the past. She wanted to focus on what was going on right now.

She grinned as she looked at herself in the mirror and did a small twirl just for emphasis. Her slinky dress curled tightly around her body and she chuckled when she thought of what Ichigo's face would look like when he saw her in this.

The dress was a sizzling and shimmering black. It wrapped around her entire form as perfectly as a glove would fit a hand. The dress stopped at the bottom of her knees and gave way to delectably bare legs that ended in smart and sexy black heels. The garment was sleeveless and had a turtleneck feature that made her look elegant and refined. However, the best part of the entire dress was the back. A giant piece of fabric had been circularly sliced out of the posterior, giving a clear view of her shoulder blades and her spine. In the front there was also a small cut of fabric that had been removed. It was in the shape of a diamond and showcased just the right amount of cleavage. In it, she looked sleek, sophisticated, and downright sexy.

She just needed a whip and she'd be a dominatrix.

Sans the leather of course.

"Momo," she called back to the woman currently lodged in her bathroom, "Are you ready yet? The party starts at eight!"

"I'm coming, I'm coming, hold your horses," she muttered as she emerged from the bathroom and clipping sparkling rings into her ears in the process.

Rukia raised an eyebrow at her friend and nodded in approval. Momo was wearing one of her best dresses. It had been specifically chosen to match the color of her eyes. Thin, twirling straps led the eye downward to a sinfully low dip in the front. The back dipped as well but was more modest than the dress that Rukia had worn to the merger announcement. The dress had a gauzy feel to it; it fanned out around her hips and fell to just below her knees. She looked beautiful in it.

Rukia smirked, "So I see you're playing the fairy princess tonight? You know, Toshiro will be too distracted by you that he might forget to do business."

Momo simply huffed dramatically, "Please, _you're_ the one going as sexy-and-out-of-reach-temptress." She raised an eyebrow and giggled, "How many guys do you think will hit on you before Ichigo starts breaking faces?"

Rukia's playful expression dropped and she shook her head. "No, we talked about it yesterday," she leaned towards the mirror and put on her diamond choker necklace and her stud earrings. "We decided that we'd socialize with other people and rarely come into contact during the night." She looked back at Momo while she applied her mascara, "We don't want anyone to get any _ideas_."

Momo just rolled her eyes, "Sure… sure…" her gaze twinkled at Rukia as she held up her hand and extended her first three fingers. "I'm betting on three before he blows."

"Yeah well," Rukia muttered, putting on the last touches of her makeup. "We'll just see about that." She turned to Momo and smiled. "Are you ready?"

Momo grinned in return and held out Rukia's coat. "Yep. Come on, I told Shiro that we'd be there by eight thirty."

"Excellent." Rukia slid her hands through her sleeves and checked to make sure she had all of her things in her purse. She looked up at Momo, smiled once more, and together they exited her apartment.

The ride to Suigetsu Inc. was been eventful to say the least. Rukia and Momo had received so many catcalls and gropes that after the first stop on the overly-crowded metro they exited and chose to take a taxi instead. The taxi driver hadn't been any better either; throughout the entire ride he had rattled off all of his marriageable qualities as well as those of his younger brother while Rukia and Momo sat in the back and prayed for the painfully excruciating ride to be over with quickly.

When they finally reached the building they had acquired not only their change from the driver but two cell phone numbers as well. Although Rukia did _politely_ slam the door and hurry inside with her friend before the man in the car could say anything else.

"God," Momo muttered as she giggled, happily and linking her arm with Rukia's, "When the hell are we _ever_ going to stop being accosted by men?" She sighed with exasperated sarcasm and laughed.

"Well," Rukia jostled back, "I guess when we stop being as good looking as we are." She turned to her friend and her face broke out into a wide grin.

Momo smiled as well and squeezed her hand around Rukia's. She looked ahead as they began to walk through the revolving doors and into the lobby. "I'm happy for you, Rukia. I'm really happy."

A light blush came onto Rukia's cheeks when she knew what she was referring to. She nodded twice before answering, "I'm… happy too, I guess."

Momo in front of the revolving doors and waited until she was able to enter a compartment without being squished. She and Rukia stepped inside the single compartment together, giggling like two little girls as they pushed their way through. Once they were on the inside, however, Momo took a moment to frown, look over at Rukia, and raise an eyebrow. "Wait… you guess? Why do you guess?"

Rukia shrugged and brushed an invisible piece of lint off of her slinky black dress. "It's just kind of… new, I think. I haven't… well, I haven't… _you_ know. Not since—" She broke off and stared pointedly at the ground, her cheeks minutely shading with each click of her heels.

"I know," Momo said quietly, patting Rukia lightly on the arm. "I know sweetie."

Rukia just smiled softly as they walked to the elevator together. Several people stared at them as they moved but the pair simply grinned to one another and ignored them. Once inside the elevator, Rukia pressed the button for the certain floor and loosened the buttons on her sleek jacket. Momo did the same and readied her hair in her slightly distorted reflection.

Rukia's heart was beating nervously inside of her chest as she waited for the elevator to deliver them to the party. She swallowed hard and pressed a soft hand to the sweet flesh exposed by the diamond cut-out on her dress. She could practically feel the thrumming organ as it became erratic.

_Oh Christ, please don't let this happen all night_.

She knew why it was happening though. She knew the reason very well… after all, she looked beautiful, she was full of confidence, and she knew that directly on the other side of that elevator door was Ichigo.

Hopefully in a tuxedo.

She snickered to herself and thought of what his face would look like when he saw her in her dress. If she was to be completely truthful with herself, she reasoned mentally, she would have to say that she had pulled it out of her closet just for the specific occasion of seeing his expression.

Momo looked over at her and raised an eyebrow. A smile immediately followed. "Are you sure you're ready for this?"

Rukia nodded and drew in a deep breath as the elevator finally stopped. The light blinked before her and she practically shook with the anticipation she felt.

_Just to see Ichigo… all of this just to see him… damn, this is crazy._ Rukia pressed a hand to her forehead and felt the heat emanating from her skin. She drew in a deep breath and told her heart to stop beating so fastidiously in her chest. After all, she had seen Ichigo in a tuxedo before, she had been seeing him all week—both in the intimate and the business sense—and she shouldn't have been this anxious to be with him tonight.

_I'm at a business function,_ she told herself, her mind becoming stern once again, _this is no time for flights and fancy. I have to socialize—with other people—I need to schmooze, I need to make contacts, and I need to stay away from Ichigo; we agreed to this. I made the rules. I'm sticking to them._

She shook her head and brushed a stray lock of loose hair behind her ear. She mussed it a bit and smirked when she saw her reflection in the glossy elevator doors. She drew in a deep breath and straightened her dress once more.

The elevator opened and as they pulled back Rukia's eyes were immediately scanning the area for an orange head of—

_No! Stop thinking like that!_ She shouted mentally. _I'm not here looking for him!_

Rukia stubbornly turned her head and began scanning the room looking for other faces. She was almost sure that Mr. Ukitake was going to be in attendance, as well as Mr. Ichimaru and possibly Mr. Aizen. She smiled at the thought of all three of them together. Hell, she might be able to wheedle a small promotion out of them if she dazzled them enough with both her outfit and her eloquence.

Turning to Momo with a renewed fervor in the pit of her stomach—this one was completely business-oriented and had nothing to do with butterflies—she smirked and drew in a deep breath. "I'm going to go find people to suck up to. Are you going to go find Toshiro?"

Momo blinked twice and paused before turning out to the crowd, scanning it, and then nodding slowly. "Yes… yes, I'm going to go find Shiro." She turned back to Rukia and offered her a sweet smile. "So, I'll probably go home with him. I'm assuming you'll go home with Ichigo?"

Rukia's head immediately darted around the room just to make sure no one heard. "Yes," she answered in a low voice while a look of slight panic crossed over Momo's face. She clapped her hand over her mouth and murmured an apology. Rukia scanned the room again and she nodded slowly. "I think I'll go home with, um, _him_."

Momo slowly peeled her fingers away from her mouth and smiled, "Good, take a mental picture of his face when he sees you." She made an image of a camera with her hands and giggled softly.

"Will do," Rukia said with a quick nod as she handed her coat over to the man checking them and thanked him in a quiet tone. "You have fun too."

"Yes ma'am." Momo did a mock salute and laughed as she floated away in her beautiful dress. Rukia's eyes followed her as she exited and smiled genuinely for her friend. She was just so happy for Momo. After all that time of heartbreak and failed searches… finally having Toshiro must be such a fantastic relief.

_More than a relief,_ Rukia told herself as she began to weave in and out of the people at the party, occasionally greeting those who warranted ones and smiling at others, _she must be so… content._

She paused for a moment to shake hands with a man she knew from some boardroom.

_I want to be like that._

"Ms. Kuchiki!"

Rukia turned at the sound of her voice and a wide grin immediately came over her face. "Mr. Ukitake!" Her feet began carrying her towards her boss before she sent the signals down to her brain. He was standing near the center of the room and had a caterer waiting patiently near his side. Rukia sidled up to him and gladly accepted the proffered glass of champagne from Mr. Ukitake. She smiled again and held out her right hand. "It's good to see you again sir."

Mr. Ukitake grinned foolishly and he squeezed her hand tightly. "It's good to see you again too, Ms. Kuchiki. I do have to say, life at the Gotei Corporation hasn't been the same since you left."

"I haven't left," Rukia protested jokingly, "I'm only in another building."

Mr. Ukitake grinned sheepishly and nodded, "I know, I guess I _could_ see you whenever I wanted… still," he gave her a kind, sidelong glance, "I believe I just miss talking to you. You and I always had the liveliest of chats."

"That we did." Rukia nodded, "But life at Suigetsu has been good to me." She tilted her head to the side and drew in a deep breath. "The work is hard but…" she paused and had to fight the small smile encroaching upon her lips, "I've been getting along better with my partner."

Mr. Ukitake gave her a fatherly smile, "I'm glad," his eyes wandered around the room for a moment before returning to her. "At first I just thought it was my eyes deceiving me… but no, I noticed that there was something different about you."

Rukia's smile nearly dropped like a stone but she held it in place as panic slowly seeped through her stomach.

_Oh… shit…_

"You and Mr. Kurosaki seem to have truly hit it off." He continued coolly while Rukia's eyes widened in horror, "I mean, after all, great minds think alike and all that. You and he are perfectly suited for each other. You're dedicated to your work and so is he, he is highly intelligent and you are even more so, he is passionate about his work and I've never seen a single day where you didn't put one hundred and ten percent into yours."

Rukia's stomach—which had been about to implode—calmed somewhat. _He's just talking about the business aspect of everything, he doesn't know about our… uh, _extracurricular_ activities._ She thought, allowing a small gasp of air to escape her lungs.

"Yes," Rukia exhaled softly, "We had a rocky start but I've grown to respect him as a business partner. I believe that once this merger is over I would like to work with him again."

_And again and again and again…_

Mr. Ukitake's grin stretched from ear to ear. "That's fantastic Rukia… truly, truly, fantastic…."

Rukia could have been mistaken but she could have sworn there was some kind of ethereal twinkle in her boss's eye. It was as if… as if he… _knew_.

_He can't know,_ Rukia contradicted immediately, pushing the thought away as quickly as possible, _Ichigo and I have kept it very secret. He couldn't know… could he?_

Rukia bit her bottom lip and sipped her glass of champagne. Oh well, she _hoped_ he didn't know.

Mr. Ukitake grabbed a crab-cake as it floated by on a catering tray. "Oh, by the way, I've been meaning to ask you about your brother. How is the old boy doing? I heard he was getting better."

Rukia turned her attention back to her boss and smiled, "Yes, Byakuya's tenacity is amazing. He's recovering quite quickly. The doctor's say with about a month more of physical therapy he should be able to walk again."

"Without a cane?"

"Like my brother would ever use a cane, sir?"

"Ah, I see your point."

Rukia nodded and smiled as she sipped her champagne. For the next fifteen minutes she continued conversing with her boss, even though she was speaking to him more as an acquaintance than anything else, and thoroughly enjoyed every minute of it. They laughed like old friends, he jostled her like a father would a daughter, and she made small digs as though she wasn't below him in the business hierarchy. It truly was wonderful to talk to him again. She hadn't even realized how much she had missed his company until it had been taken away from her.

_Or I had neglected it._ She thought, a small bit of guilt entering her conscience.

When the large clock had nearly hit the nine mark Rukia grinned and asked her boss if he'd like another glass of champagne. He had eagerly accepted and Rukia went off to find one of the floating caterers. She hummed softly in her throat as she did so and weaved gently around the room.

It was only when she came to the very edge of the room did she find what she was looking for…

And more.

The moment Rukia's fingers wrapped around two champagne glass stems her eye caught sight of something shining. No, not shining… more like _flaming_. She frowned and turned her head to see what that shining and flaming thing was.

Rukia nearly dropped the glasses.

*~*~*

A small smile graced Momo Hinamori's face as she trailed aimlessly in between the crowds of people. Many men turned to look at her as she passed and she turned to them with a happy smile plastered across her features. She giggled when a very cute—but very under-aged—boy in a catering outfit presented her with a sparkling glass of champagne.

"Miss." He said, his eyes bugging out of his head as he handed her the proffered beverage.

"Why thank you sir," Momo said kindly. She fought off a giggle at the way his face blushed beet red.

Deciding that she wasn't completely finished with the boy, Momo lifted her hand and brushed a stray piece of hair behind his ear. The young man nearly had a heart attack when her soft fingers passed near his face. Momo, herself, could feel her sides splitting with unshed laughter as she slowly watched him turn seven shades of red.

She bent down a bit and raised one eyebrow towards him. "I'll come and get you if I need _anything_ else, kay?" She murmured in a low and husky voice.

He didn't speak; he simply grabbed his chest, nodded his scraggly head of hair, and began to choke a bit.

She walked away while the young man had a heart attack on the carpet. She glanced back and frowned… at least… it _looked_ like he was having a heart attack. Either that or an orgasm.

Momo turned away and flipped a piece of hair away from her face.

Damn she was good.

She continued flitting through the crowd. Her heels clicked lightly on the wooden floor and she hummed a small tune as she went. Not long into her wanderings, she saw a distinctly white puff of hair in the crowd.

Her smile widened to twice its size and she increased her speed.

"Toshiro," she said, happiness infecting her voice as she came up behind her fiancé and placed a hand on his shoulder. She sighed dreamily when he turned to smile at her. _I'm so lucky that I've found a man who is the same height as me_.

"Momo," Toshiro said, leaning his head towards hers and pressing a small kiss to her cheek. Momo blushed and giggled softly as he did so. Shiro wasn't one of the most openly affectionate people in the world. When it came to him, kisses and caresses seemed to always be reserved for the home. Only when he was in a really good mood did he ever show outward signs of affection.

She reciprocated the gesture and added in a little nuzzle of her nose. She felt the skin under her lips heat and she laughed inwardly. Toshiro was always so cute when he blushed.

"Enjoying the party?" He asked as she swung around to stand in front of him, her dress swirling around his and her legs.

"I am now," Momo replied earnestly. She reached out one of her hands and coupled it with Toshiro's. He smiled at her and she felt herself become slightly breathless just at the sight of him.

Her fiancé looked dashing in a simple—yet elegant—black suit. It was paired with a silver tie that matched his striking hair perfectly. His eyes were a shining shade of blue and a light smile rested upon his face, making his countenance seem even more handsome.

She linked her fingers with his and together they stepped closer to one another. He was holding a glass of champagne in his hand and so was she. After another moment of looking into his eyes, Momo could surmise that it was this simple glass of sparkling liquid that was keeping her from jumping her fiancé in front of all of his business partners.

"Glad I could help," he said to her, bringing her mind back to the present. She watched as his face reddened again and he looked off to the side.

_Toshiro is always so cute when he says something sentimental._ Momo's mind screamed joyously.

They remained there, staring into each others' respective eyes, when—after a moment—Toshiro's body stiffened, his eyes narrowed, and his head swung around to the side. Momo frowned and followed his piercing gaze.

She gasped and almost dropped her champagne.

Sosuke Aizen was standing not three feet from her.

_How did I not notice this?!_ Her brain shrieked as alarm bells began to sing. Her hand tightened a bit inside of Shiro's and she backed just a tiny ways away.

"Mr. Hitsugaya," he said, his warm body coming even closer to the pair. "Hello."

Momo looked stubbornly to the side, her eyes refusing to meet his. She knew what would happen if she looked up into his perfectly chocolate brown eyes. She knew what would happen if she allowed her hand to be swallowed by his. She knew… she knew and she didn't want it to happen.

"Hello Mr. Aizen," Toshiro said in a chilled voice. Momo knew he wasn't being rude though. His tone was just normally like that. "How are you this evening?"

"Very well, very well… yes." Momo tried to steel herself against the velvety onslaught of his perfect voice. She liked Toshiro's voice much better than his. _Much_ better.

"Excellent."

There was a slight pause between them and Toshiro's hand loosened just a bit around Momo's. She held onto it fast and pretended to be reading the occupancy notice for the room.

"I actually hadn't expected to come here tonight," Sosuke—_no, it's Mr. Aizen_, Momo reminded herself—said jovially. "But I thought since everyone was here I might as well make the rounds."

"An astute observation," Toshiro commented, tugging Momo's hand a bit and bringing her forward a few feet.

"Yes," Mr. Aizen chuckled and nodded to the people milling around them, "I wouldn't be a very good business head if I didn't see to my employees every now and again."

"Of course," Momo's fiancé added, he pulled her hand until she was even with him and extended an arm towards Mr. Aizen. "Have you met my fiancé, Mr. Aizen?"

There was a soft pause before he answered, "Once, yes… we've met once."

That was when Momo finally looked up.

Her mind was immediately assaulted by the perfect shape of his eyes. She saw his thick boyish glasses, his lightly salted hair, his round, heart-shaped face, and that beautiful mouth that was currently curled into a smile.

She nearly swooned.

"Yes," Momo answered, her voice slightly strangled, her eyes still glued to Sosuke's, and her palm—still wrapped around Toshiro's—beginning to sweat. "We went to lunch once to discuss selecting an assistant for Mr. Aizen once the merger is complete."

_Holy hell, did I actually get that out in a completely coherent sentence?_

"Really?" There was a note of uneasiness in Toshiro's voice as he squeezed Momo's hand. "Did you mention that to me?"

Momo jerked her head away from Sosuke's direction and looked over at her fiancé. His eyes were growing harder by the second and his expression was once again slightly frozen. Shame filled the pit of Momo's stomach when she realized what she had just been thinking… what she had been imagining… what she had been contemplating….

She opened her mouth to answer him—hopefully with another completely coherent sentence, although with Sosuke standing so close she didn't know if she could do it again—but was surprised when Sosuke spoke first.

"I'm afraid the outing wasn't very eventful to be so memorable," he cut in swiftly, "I was quite rude about the whole thing, actually. I simply stole Ms. Hinamori away from the office and pumped with questions." He took another step forward until they were very close indeed. "I meant to apologize for my actions but I'm afraid I never got the chance."

Momo looked from Sosuke to Toshiro and swallowed silently. She knew that Sosuke was lying; the luncheon _had_ been memorable, he _hadn't_ stolen her away, and he most definitely _hadn't_ pumped her for anything… except emotions she didn't want or need right now.

"Oh," Toshiro looked up and smiled at Momo, "Well, if it wasn't that memorable…"

Momo smiled and prayed that she would be able to make an escape before things went any further than this. Sure, Sosuke had covered for her this one time, but what if he brought up how she had looked at him that day, how her breath had caught when he spoke to her, how his hand had lightly touched hers… and how she had not pushed it away?

"I'm going to get some more ch—"

"Actually, Mr. Hitsugaya," Sosuke interrupted, causing Momo to immediately choke on the rest of her sentence, "I proposed to Ms. Hinamori that once the merger is completed and once Rukia Kuchiki is no longer in need of her services, she should come and be my personal assistant."

Momo's eyes widened at the exact same time as Toshiro's.

His head flipped over to hers and his mouth dropped slightly, "Now I know you didn't tell me _that._"

"Because I still wasn't sure about Rukia's position," Momo hurriedly cut in, praying to God that Shiro didn't take this as some sort of plot to accidentally sabotage their relationship. "I'm actually still not really sure about it. Rukia might want to keep using me as her secretary and—"

"Momo," Toshiro said, quickly bringing a hand up to her lips and quieting her. She silenced immediately and blinked when she saw a look of happiness crossing over his features. "I'm not mad at you." He chuckled lightly and shook his head. "No, honey… this is a wonderful opportunity for you. To be the personal assistant to the head of Suigetsu and Gotei Incorporated? That's a huge stepping stone."

Momo gulped, "It is?"

"Of course," he quickly brought his hand to his lips and pressed a quick kiss to the tips of her fingers. "Momo, I'm so happy for you."

Warmth spread to her cheeks and she swallowed heavily. She didn't know if it was because her fiancé was kissing her hand or if it was because Sosuke was watching. She… oh God… she didn't know what to think right now. Toshiro was so happy for her, his face was practically glowing…

How could she tell him that she didn't want to accept the position because Sosuke Aizen made her knees weak?

"Mr. Hitsugaya!"

All three heads jerked over to the sound of someone calling for Toshiro. He raised a hand and acknowledged the person, his other appendage still gripping Momo's quivering fingers.

He turned back to her and smiled, "I'm going to go do what I do best," a hint of arrogance overrode his normally bland tone and Momo's lips quirked up slightly. "It might take a while."

"That's okay," Momo answered immediately. "I was going to go and find Rukia anyway." She nudged away from the two men before her and desperately wished she could get away.

"Alright," he bent over to her and pressed a kiss to her heated cheek. His lips were pleasantly cool and Momo smiled a bit more. "I'll see you later tonight. You're leaving with Rukia right?"

"Yes," she answered the pit of her stomach evaporating as she did so, "We thought we'd spend some girl time together."

"Okay," he said, brushing kisses against her knuckles, "Call me when you two are safe at her place."

"Alright," she murmured. He turned away and as immediately swallowed by the much larger crowd. Momo's heart was hammering inside of her chest as she watched him leave.

She hadn't planned on staying at Rukia's tonight. Her throat closed slightly when she realized that this was the first time she had ever lied outright to her fiancé.

Sosuke moved behind her until her exposed back was brushing against the fabric of his coat. She stood stock still and waited until she felt his breath puffing on the back of her neck.

"I'd like to take you to see your new office."

His voice was low and even. Momo shuddered against him and felt two strong hands come onto her shoulders. He held her gently and they turned as one. "Come on," he said, his tone becoming husky.

Momo only nodded and—as if she was in a trance—followed him step for step.

On the way out, Sosuke grabbed two glasses of champagne from a silent caterer and held them as they walked. He handed one to her and she drank it willingly. The cool liquid flowed down her throat and warmed both her esophagus and her stomach. They continued walking and after a few moments she felt a large, warm, hand on her back. They walked and walked and walked for what seemed like hours but was really only a few moments.

Momo's mind clouded. For some reason, she felt… slow and tingly. She felt like she was trudging through molasses yet lit on fire at the same time. Her body began to simmer and her brain began to fuzz. Her last thought was wondering if this was the effect that Sosuke Aizen had on her—or on all women—before he gently eased both of them into an elevator.

*~*~*

Rukia's dress slid against her body as she hurriedly walked down the empty hallway, her arms swinging by her sides as she pumped her legs at a furious pace. The sound made by her heels was muffled by the soft carpeting and she swallowed hard at the pounding inside of her head. Quickly, she placed a hand against her forehead and tried to calm down.

The door came into her vision only a moment later. Coat in one hand and purse in the other, Rukia tightly gripped the knob with her free fingers and twisted as hard as she could. The metallic object nearly broke off in her hand as she thrust the door open and went inside. With as much force as she possibly could muster, Rukia turned and slammed the door shut.

The resounding _bang_ would have disturbed an entire neighborhood if the walls had been thin enough. Rukia, however, knew that no one at Suigetsu was listening.

No one would care.

She swiftly walked inside and threw her purse and coat vehemently down into her office chair. She felt little streaks of heat slide down her face as a _thump_ echoed from her padded leather seat.

Glaring at nothing in particular she viciously shoved a hand through her hair and pulled it away from her face. Her breathing was shallow and uneven as she tried to steady it. More hot stripes colored her burning cheeks and she hastily wiped them away. Her fingers came back wet. She glowered angrily at the tips and shoved them furiously against her dress.

"Stupid, stupid, _stupid!_" She hissed. She drew in a deep and angry breath and strode forward until her entire body was in front of the glass window of her office.

_Not just my office, _she told herself quietly, _his too._

Rukia swallowed and as another breath escaped her it became choppy and stuttered.

She balled her hands into fists and raised them until they were pressed against the cool glass. She shivered as she leaned forward and pressed her heated forehead against it as well. Steam pooled around the areas connected but she stayed there, desperately trying to control the flood of emotions that was currently plaguing her stomach and her chest.

More importantly her chest.

_The moment Rukia's fingers wrapped around two champagne glass stems her eye caught sight of something shining. No, not shining… more like flaming. She frowned and turned her head to see what that shining and flaming thing was._

_Rukia nearly dropped the glasses._

"_Ichigo…" she breathed, her heart sped up slightly at the sight of him. His fantastically orange hair was as unruly as ever—it looked as if he hadn't even brushed it before coming here—and his tight body looked downright delicious in the casual tuxedo he was wearing. Rukia felt an involuntary shudder run through her as she stood, slightly bent, simply staring at him._

_But that was not the reason she nearly dropped the glasses. No, she hadn't just been stunned by him—although that probably would have sufficed for a _few_ broken glasses—it was more than that._

_It was who he was talking to._

_Rukia did not know who the woman was. As she studied her perfect face no recollection came to mind, no glimpse in the hallway, no greeting on an elevator, no accidental bump at a luncheon. She did not know the woman._

_But Ichigo seemed to know her._

_He actually seemed to know her very well, if the way he was trapping her against a wall with one casually held up arm was any indication. She was leaning happily against the bland paint, with a sultry smile curving on her face, as she stared directly into Ichigo's eyes._

_Rukia took a moment to evaluate the woman; she was dressed in a peach-colored garment that was nearly translucent. Had the woman been wearing underwear—and she wasn't—everyone in attendance would have been able to see it. Her body was curved perfectly: her breasts were easily five times the size of Rukia's and currently popping out of her dress, her waist was as tiny as a coin, her hips were flared seductively, and the lining of her legs would cause any man to fall directly at her feet. To add injury to insult, her face was just as perfect as her body. Long, gleaming, blonde hair fell in waves nearly to her waist, her lips were a delectable looking shade of pink and curled in just the right way, and her cheeks were curved in a gentle heart-shape that could have melted the coldest of souls._

_The woman was Aphrodite herself._

_Rukia watched for a moment as Ichigo spoke to her and grinned while his arm remained in its same place. The woman laughed a merry, tinkling, joyous, and seductive, laugh and brought out one hand to lightly nudge it against his chest. Rukia swallowed hard when she watched her hand linger on the soft cloth of Ichigo's shirt. She looked up into his eyes, grinned provocatively, and began to swirl her pointer finger in circles against him._

_Oddly enough, it wasn't that particular act that killed Rukia. It was the fact that he made no move to stop her and even leaned in a bit closer that really stole away her breath._

_Rukia stood stock still, the power of what was happening pinning her to her spot. She was trembling softly as she watched the woman lean forward and whisper something into Ichigo's ear. He grinned and just laughed. Rukia could only imagine that right now he was smelling her fragrance. No doubt she had chosen to wear a fantastic perfume that turned men into amorous fools._

_Ichigo included._

_Rukia held her eyes on the woman for at least two full minutes. She didn't know why she couldn't break away… she just… couldn't._

_It was only at the end of those two minutes that Rukia found a pair of coy blue eyes shining into her own. That alone was enough to break Rukia out of the trance she had placed herself in. She jerked upwards, shook her head, and tried desperately to clear it. Champagne splashed against the edges of the glass and even spilled over a bit as she jerked backwards and tried to disappear into the crowd once more._

_The last glimpse she had of the sensuous woman was her lightly tapping Ichigo on the shoulder and indicating in her direction._

_She only prayed that he hadn't seen her._

_She quickly walked through the mass of people and hastily met up with Mr. Ukitake. She swiftly handed him his glass of champagne and left immediately, muttering something about bad crab-cakes and an upset stomach._

_She wasn't necessarily lying though; she did have an upset stomach. Seeing that… it had made her sick._

Rukia exhaled and watched as her breath puffed against the glass. The moisture disappeared slowly and she closed her eyes before it could be completely gone.

She hadn't wanted this to happen. None of it, she hadn't wanted any… anything…

"Christ," she whispered, pressing two fingers on the bridge of her nose. She had a horrible headache throbbing in her temples and she desperately wished that she had thought to bring some aspirin with her.

She just needed to calm down. Once she calmed down she could go home. She could go home and sleep and not think about this. Once she was calm she would think about this rationally and she would… she would... she would do _something_. She wasn't entirely sure _what_, but she'd do something.

Something that didn't involve tears and copious amounts of alcohol or ice cream.

She swallowed and snorted; okay, maybe she'd add in the alcohol.

Slowly, ever so slowly, her breathing came under control. Her limbs stopped shaking. Her mind stopped racing. The streaks of hot liquid stopped falling from her eyes.

Rukia stepped away from the window and drew in breath after deep breath. She closed her eyes for a moment and counted to ten—as a precaution—and turned to go to her chair and get her things.

She hadn't made a single move when the door burst open.

Rukia's heart froze inside of her chest as Ichigo Kurosaki came through the door, coat in tow, and hurriedly shut it behind him.

He looked to be out of breath and once he turned around she saw that it was true. He was panting slightly and the tightness of his tie had been compromised as a result. Rukia stood stock still as he tossed his coat onto her desk and began to pull at the cloth around his neck.

"Hey," he muttered, his breathing slightly heavier than normal, "I called after you, didn't you hear me?"

Rukia blinked at him. Ichigo looked up and raised one sharp, orange, eyebrow. He slid the tie away from him and tossed it on her desk as well. Rukia still did not move.

He smirked as he straightened up and stuffed his hands into his pockets. "What, have you suddenly gone deaf?"

Rukia blessed the darkness of the room. Blessed it and cursed it, in fact. She was truly glad that Ichigo could not see her red face, indicating the possibility of tears. However, she was not as enthusiastic about the fact that he could not see how truly, frighteningly, _angry_ she was with him right now.

Initiating several brisk movements, Rukia moved to her desk and dug out her coat and her purse, she hefted them into her arms and quickly moved to pass her lover.

Ichigo's hand reached out and grabbed her arm.

"Rukia," he grunted, swinging her in front of him, "I wasn't kidding about that deaf comment."

"Get out of my way Ichigo," she said, her voice was low, angry, and deadly.

Anyone with a self-preservation gene would have immediately released her. Ichigo, however, did not possess such a trait—his lack of inheritance probably stemmed from his crazy father—and only gripped her arm tighter.

"What the fuck is wrong with your voice?" He peered at her closer and lifted his other hand to brush a stray lock of hair away from her eyes. "Are you okay?"

Rukia raised her arm and slapped away his hand in one motion. In her second she twisted out of his tight grip and jerked away from him.

No longer able to hold it in any longer she opened her mouth and allowed her frustration to flow into furious, condescending, boiling, words.

"Why don't you go ask that slut?" She spat venomously, "I'm sure _she'll _be able to tell you what is wrong with me."

Ichigo's voice became flat and increasingly angry. "What the hell are you talking about?"

"Oh please," Rukia hissed, "Like you don't know!" She walked around him and headed for the door again. "Just go back to the party Ichigo. Who knows, maybe you'll get so fucking plastered that you'll start making out with Inoue again." Not that she had seen her anywhere in the vicinity. But hell, as mad as she was right now she was glad for it. She didn't think she could take it if that psychopath was here trying to seduce Ichigo.

Because someone had already beaten her to it.

Her hand was on the doorknob and she had just jerked it slightly away from the frame when a strong hand shot out from above her head and slammed it shut. The sound resonated just like it had when she had slammed it the first time.

Rukia stayed still for a moment as her fist tightened around the knob, nearly denting it. Her eyes were bleeding red and her breathing was becoming hard. A low, feral, snarl came from her lips and she viciously yanked on the door once again.

Ichigo did not so much as budge. His hand was solid on the door as he leaned his head down. Rukia stiffened her neck as she felt his hot breath come puffing down on her ear and neck.

"When I asked you what the hell you were talking about," he said in a voice that was low and deadly, "It wasn't an invitation to evade the question." One of his hands snapped out and grappled hard on her shoulder. She hissed as he spun her around and slammed her back against the door.

She lurched against him but both of his hands came to her shoulders and pushed her back against the door. She strained and even went as far as to viciously kick him in the shin. Ichigo grunted and expelled a hot breath before he pushed her even further into the wall and glared at her hard.

"Get off of me Ichigo," she snarled, bringing her hands and shoving them hard against his chest.

"No," he shot back. His hot, honeyed-amber eyes were burning into hers even in the darkness of the room. Rukia stared up at him. Her breathing was hard and heavy as she stared him down.

"I said," she growled, "Get. Off. Of. Me. _Now_, Kurosaki."

She felt Ichigo stiffen under her pushing hands. She knew what he was thinking. She only used his last name when she was terribly pissed off at him. She saw his eyes narrow and at that very moment her heart started beating faster.

One of his hands moved from her shoulder and found its way to her face. Rukia jerked immediately away from him but he followed her. His palm pressed determinedly to her cheek and gripped tightly. She grunted and tried to get away but he held fast.

His breath was insistent on her face as his fingers roved the skin around her eyes. She held deathly still as his pointed finger tested the puffiness under her eye. His movements were insistent but still gentle. He roved around her face and then moved to the other side, the back of his hand doing the work this time. Rukia stood as still as a statue until all of the wetness was gone from her cheeks. She furiously raged at herself as her body began to react to his presence. She could feel her nipples tightening inside of her dress. She could feel her sex beginning to slicken at his touches. Her skin tingled as he continued to caress her face.

But she was angry. Oh she was so angry. How could she so easily forget the woman he had been speaking to? The blonde bombshell with the perfect body and the perfect breasts and the perfect beauty; how could she forget how he leaned towards her and smiled the same arrogant, smirking, smile that he used on her all the time? How could she just _forget_?

"Get off of me," she said, her voice holding much less venom now than it had a few moments ago. She just wanted him to go away. She wanted to be left alone.

Ichigo did not move. "You've been crying." He said. Rukia turned at the sound of his voice and fought back a snicker. His tone held such wonderment and awe… it seemed like this was the first time he had ever seen a woman cry and now he was looking at her like some sort of freak scientist would—half bewildered and amazed yet still half afraid.

"I stubbed my toe," Rukia hissed angrily, her own tone bolstering its hatred once again. "It really hurt. Now let me the _fuck_ go."

"No," he answered immediately, pressing even more-so into her, Rukia could feel the push of his body against hers and could smell the heat in the air. His head bent down towards hers but she clenched her jaw shut and turned away from him. She started angrily at the wall as Ichigo placed his head on the crook of her neck and shoulder and drew in a deep breath.

"What was it you were saying about a slut?"

Rukia's temper flared instantly and before she knew what she was doing, she had pushed Ichigo away from her in one, heavy, shove. He stumbled backwards and grunted but she didn't care. Hell, she didn't know how she had been able to do that after she had spent so long trapped against the door.

"Rukia," he growled, advancing on her once again, more than likely ready to pin her to the door, "I'm tired of doing this. You're going to answer me right now. What the _fuck_ is wrong with you?"

Instead of answering she advanced on him. Her hands met his chest and she shoved him as hard as she possibly could. His body went sailing through the air and he cursed again and again. Rukia couldn't hear anything. Her ears were throbbing with rushing blood and her heart was suffering from the same affliction. She gritted her teeth together and came towards him once again. Before he could catch any of her offending appendages she had shoved him again. This time, his body hit the large glass wall with an angry thud. He grunted and made to get up from it—hell, she wouldn't have been surprised if he had decided to tackle her right then and there—but he didn't. He stopped the moment he saw her come before him and fall to her knees.

Rukia was so angry… she was so filled with hatred… she despised Ichigo for what he had done with that woman… for what he would have done if he hadn't seen her… for—for—everything. She hated him for it… she wanted to make him pay…

But more than anything else she wanted to show him the same craziness that he had shown her the night Momo had hurt her. She wanted to show him that he was not the only one who held the cards in this deadly game they were playing. She wanted to show him that she could be just as domineering… just as possessive… just as _needing_.

If not more so than him.

Rukia's fingers gripped the buckle of his pants and in less than a second it was undone. She heard an intake of breath from Ichigo as she tugged open his fly and yanked down his pants and underwear.

"Rukia!" He gasped, "W-What're you doin—"

She enveloped him completely in her mouth.

"_SHIT!_"

Her lips closed around him as she sucked on him as hard as she could. There was no time for teasing foreplay. She wasn't going to play around with him—blow on his cock, lick his length, or even grip him with her hands. No, she would have to save that for later. Right now she needed to show him all of the things that she could not tell him. She'd play with him later; she'd torture him just like he had tortured her so many nights ago. She'd take him into her and not let him leave until his senses were all but depleted. She'd ride him and fuck him and pleasure him until it was _he_ that slipped into the regions of the unconscious.

Not her… _him_.

Her tongue swirled around the tip of his quickly-hardening cock and groaned when he expanded inside of her mouth. Her lips caressed the edges of his thick shaft and her hand rose from its place on the carpet and began to cup his balls.

Ichigo groaned above her and she relished the sounds. She knew that only she could produce them. Only she could bring that type of moan from his lips. Him… Ichigo Kurosaki, the indomitable, the insufferable, and the indescribable man that he was.

That man was currently moaning under her sinful ministrations.

She could hear him panting above her and she sucked on him even harder. Her second hand rose and began to caress the lean line of his legs. Her fingers tangled in the curly mass of hair that led to his engorged length. She teased that which was not inside of her mouth with her fingers and listened while he panted hard.

Her heart pounded inside of her chest and her sex grew slick with juice as she continued. She knew that if she continued like this he would not be able to stand it much longer.

Rukia pushed him even further into her mouth, until his head was hitting the back of her throat. She pulled him in and out of her mouth, mimicking what she knew he wanted to do with her hot center. Ichigo gasped above her and she had to fight off a smile at the sound.

She pulled him nearly completely out of her mouth as she leaned back on her aching legs and ran the entire length of her tongue over the tip of him. She tasted the salty sweetness of his precum as she moved. She swallowed diligently and shuddered when she thought of what all of him would taste like.

_He's almost there, _she noted with some satisfaction. Normally, Ichigo could last much, much, much, _much_, longer than this. But she guessed that since she was the one taking matters into her own hands things were going to be a bit different.

Rukia tasted him as he leaked from his tip and groaned, sending the vibrations from her throat all throughout his body. She could tell he was only seconds away now. Swiftly, the hand cupping his balls gently slithered behind them. Rukia tuned her ears perfectly as she moved her fingers to press on the sensitive spot directly behind his testicles.

That did it.

Ichigo lurched inside of her mouth and screamed.

_Screamed._

Load after load of his semen shot its way into Rukia's throat and she did her best to accommodate every last drop of him. Her tongue swirled around him as he came, taking him all, drinking him, tasting him, _showing_ him.

Then it was over. His cock was wet and spent as she pulled her mouth away. Her breathing was hard and her body was tingling. Her heart was thumping out of tune with the rest of her body and shudders kept racing down her spine.

Slowly… ever so slowly, Rukia looked up. Her eyes followed the lean trail of his body until they finally rested on his glowing, honeyed-amber, eyes. Rukia's heart clenched at the sight. His gaze was glowing and yellow on hers. He looked demonic… beautiful… and _wild_.

Before she knew what had happened next, Ichigo was before her. His entire body had slumped against the wall, his weak legs collapsing underneath of him. His body was as flaccid as a limp noodle from her fantastic torture. She stared at him as he tried to get his breathing under control. His glowing yellow eyes were dilated. His mouth was open in panting amazement.

Rukia grinned.

As slow as a creeping cat, she stalked over to him, raised her body over his, trapped his head between her arms, pressed her heat against his enlivening erection, and bent to press her mouth against his ear.

"Quid pro quo sweetheart." She murmured huskily. She made sure to add a bit of danger to her tone as she spoke and delighted in hearing him groan. Gently, her tongue came out of her mouth and ran along the shell of his ear. He shuddered against her and wound his arms around her tiny waist.

She began to run her hands over his body and press quick kisses to his neck. "Now you're going to drive me home so _I_ can knock _you_ unconscious."

Ichigo didn't say anything; he didn't protest or swear or even mutter. He just nodded his head and pulled her into a tight hug.

As Rukia nuzzled her face against him a strange thought ran through her head. She pushed it away, not wanting to ruin this moment of complete and utter dominance over one man, and didn't bother to think of it again.

_Rukia… what are you _doing_?_

*~*~*

When Momo Hinamori finally delivered herself into consciousness later that evening she awoke to find that she was naked, bruised, and had a cut on her lip.

She couldn't remember anything.

**(A/N: This chapter is in honor of Rukia's awesome birthday, even though I updated a day late! Woot woot! Rukia kicks ass!—and I do mean that literally. I mean, the Arrancar arc? She's the only one actually taking people down! Woohoo! But I'll put that aside for now…**

**Dearest readers, I'll have you know that after I posted the last chapter I finally got my butt in gear and began to grind out more chapters. Hopefully, if I keep going at this pace (before spring term starts) I'll be able to give you chapters at a more frequent pace. :D Keep your fingers crossed!**

**PLEASE DON'T FORGET TO REVIEW!!!)**


	33. Chapter 32

**Disclaimer: I do not own Bleach or any Bleach affiliates.**

_**Odalisque**_

**Chapter 32**

His head was resting on her lap.

Ichigo breathed in and out slowly as Rukia drew her hands through his soft hair. His sleeping face was pressed softly against her leg while his arms were splayed across her warm body.

His dress shirt fluttered against her skin as she breathed in and out. Her back was leaning against the headboard of her bed and her head lolled backwards so her face was tilted upward.

Ichigo stirred slightly and the cloth slipped from his hips to go just a bit lower. Rukia chuckled sleepily but continued running her small hands through his thick, bright, hair. She hummed a small tune into the dark air and used her other hand to rub her thumb against his large, calloused, fingers.

Everything was so peaceful right now.

Rukia leaned her head back a bit and continued humming. Memories of what had happened to them right before after she had sucked him dry at the office slowly crept back into her mind. Her hands worked slowly on his hair and her throat vibrated softly.

He had been dazed as he drove home and Rukia had simply sat in the passengers' seat, silent as a tombstone. Her chest had been thumping repeatedly with emotions she didn't want to name. Her head had been spinning from what she had done in that building. She had been thinking about what Ichigo had been doing with that nameless woman at the party.

Ichigo didn't speak as he parked the car outside of her building. Rukia was the first one out of his Benz and—disregarding traffic—she walked over to Ichigo's side and yanked open his door. She wasn't finished with him… not by a long shot.

By the time this night was over she was going to make sure that he knew she wouldn't tolerate any _flirtations_ with other women.

Once they had gotten into her room she had been as ruthless as she had been in their office. Her mouth had worked around him again and again. He had come inside of her mouth and inside of _her_ at least twice.

She smiled as she remembered his face when she had thrown him down on the bed, climbed on top of him, and rode him like she was the jockey and he was the horse.

Although she hadn't actually come to the goal of making him pass out she had come _close_. He had managed to stay awake for a few minutes after their final round but had fallen asleep almost directly afterwards.

They had slept for near an hour before Rukia woke up in a haze of fuzzy feelings, warmth, and Ichigo. She had quickly donned his cast off shirt and climbed back into the bed. That was when he had dragged his head over to her and plopped it down in her lap.

Now Rukia was just sitting on the bed, running her hands through his hair, and humming a tune that Hisana had taught her when she was small. She couldn't remember all of the words but she remembered the melody. It was sweet and soothing and peaceful.

Rukia closed her eyes and allowed images of Hisana to flit through her mind. Her pale skin, her bright, laughing eyes, her dark hair, and her soft pink mouth always curved into a smile… those had been happier times. That had been before the cancer had taken away the rosiness of her complexion, the sparkle from her eyes, and the hair from her head.

_Hisana…_ Rukia thought as her fingers twirled a singular lock of Ichigo's hair. _I'll come and visit you soon._

Ichigo shifted beneath her. She looked down a bit and saw that he had shifted his head so that it was more level on her lap. She smiled softly as the peaceful look on his features and resumed stroking his hair. She hummed softly and watched as his eyes flittered open.

He stayed silent as he pulled his head up a fraction, blinked his eyes, and allowed his frown to resume its watchful position on his face.

It almost made her chuckle.

Ichigo's large, warm, hand found its way to her calf and he slowly rubbed the tender skin. She could tell his mind was still foggy. Hers would be too if she had been ravaged as thoroughly as he had been last night.

_Tonight,_ Rukia amended as she looked at her glowing alarm clock. _It's only a little past one._

"What's that song?"

Rukia dropped her head down to look at him and frowned. "Hm?" She asked quietly, almost afraid to disturb the serenity of the moment. "What did you say?"

Ichigo didn't look up at her. He just kept running his hand over her smooth leg. "What you were humming, that song…"

Rukia frowned softly and shook her head, even though she knew he couldn't see, "I'm not sure… my older sister used to sing it to men when I was little and falling asleep. I can't remember the words now… only the tune."

Ichigo expelled a slow breath of air and it ghosted down her thigh until rolled off of her knee. She shuddered softly but tried to hold as still as she could. "Oh."

She nodded as she ran her hands through his hair and gently massaged his scalp. "Why do you ask?"

He paused both in speech and in the ministrations to her leg. She frowned softly but did not cease to gently push her fingers against his hair and skull.

"My mom used to sing it to me." He whispered.

Rukia forced her hand not to stop although it nearly did. She swallowed and turned her head to the side, allowing the darkness of the room to swallow her vision. She didn't say a word, only sat and listened.

"She used to tuck me in every night." Ichigo murmured, his hand still on her leg, "I remember whenever I had nightmares she would come and sleep with me just to calm me down. I was such a crybaby back then."

Rukia bit her lip to keep silent even though she desperately wanted to tell him that she couldn't picture him crying in anything other than extreme physical pain.

"My friend Tatsuki and I went to the same dojo as kids. She would kick my ass and afterwards I would always cry. But when my mom showed up to get me I'd always start smiling. She and I would walk home together; hand in hand… sometimes she'd get me an ice cream cone. It was out time together. Just us, no screaming twins, no crazy father, just me and my mom."

Rukia's stomach clenched at what she thought he was going to say next.

"Then one day… after she picked me up from the dojo we were walking home. Just walking home. There was nothing really special about it, except that it was raining. We passed these two guys on the street and—" he paused and cleared his throat and Rukia fought to keep her hand steady as she pulled it through his hair. "They had guns so we didn't do anything. My mom had me behind her… she was protecting me. They pushed us against the wall, took her purse, pulled away, and shot her."

His voice became so low on the last two words Rukia barely heard them. Twin tears slipped down her face.

"I just sat there with my mom in the rain. It was so cold then. I was only nine and I had seen my mother get shot right in front of my eyes. What kind of kid deserves to see something like that?"

_No one_, Rukia answered silently, _but especially not you._

"After that I just became so dead inside." He continued in a low, choked voice. "It was like it was raining all the time inside of me. I would walk around for hours and not know where I was. I'd be going to school in the morning and coming back in the afternoon without realizing that a day had gone by. Time, life, and living meant absolutely nothing to me."

"Ichigo," Rukia croaked, her hand still determinedly passing through his hair.

"It was only when I realized that she wouldn't have wanted me to waste my life that I finally got my act together. I went to school, got good grades, became a lawyer… all that… and I still don't think she'd be proud of the man I've become."

"You're wrong," Rukia rasped immediately, trying hard to hide the evidence of tears in her voice. She shook her head and bit her lips together, her hands stilling as she did so. "She'd be very proud of you. You're her son, she'd be proud of anything that you did."

He sighed thickly and Rukia felt his chest vibrate as he exhaled.

"It's just that…" he began, "For so long I think I tried to duck out of the rain by being such a… a… well, an ass really. I slept with tons of women, I partied, I drank and I told myself that it was normal. I told myself that I was young, alive, worked hard, and that I deserved to have a bit of fun."

His body shifted so that his head was lying perpendicular to her leg. His eyes were staring up into hers and he lifted the edges of his mouth into a small smile. "But none of that made the rain go away." He paused and Rukia watched as his hand rose from his side and brushed the softness of her face. She leaned into his warm palm and smiled gently.

"You made the rain stop."

Ichigo statement made Rukia's heart stop.

She sat on the bed, his head in her lap, his hand on her face, their eyes connecting even in the darkness.

The power of this moment seemed to wash over Rukia. His confession, his voice, his hand… everything about this moment made Rukia's heart thump three times faster inside of her chest. Her breathing became short and her cheeks flushed with unexpected warmth.

"Ichigo…" she whispered, her lips tilting into his hand, "I want you to know…" she stilled her fingers in his hair and swallowed, her body shaking in preparation for what she was about to do… what she was about to tell him…

Her life could either be destroyed or blessed depending on his answer.

She swallowed and drew in one, shaking, breath. "I want you to know that I—"

_Ding dong._

Rukia's mind shrieked as her heart shriveled protectively back into a shielded ball. Her head jerked up at the sound of her doorbell and she shuddered softly. _So that's all that it took to jerk me back into reality,_ her panicked mind observed loathing. She hastily looked down at Ichigo and saw that he was no longer staring deeply into her eyes but was glaring at her open bedroom door with obvious distaste.

She gulped silently and slowly shifted her legs from under Ichigo's head. "Let me go and get that."

She lithely climbed over the rest of him and paused to grab the bathrobe that was hanging on the back of her door. She had just crossed the threshold into her darkened hallway when she heard Ichigo call to her from the bed.

"Pardon?" She asked, her heart still thumping a million-miles-a-minute inside of her chest.

"I said," he murmured quietly, the remnants of his eternal pain still lingering in his tone, "Tell whoever it is to go away."

She looked back at him and saw one edge of his mouth quirk upwards. She smiled back and nodded slowly. "Alright then." With that she moved quietly into the hallway.

Rukia immediately pressed a hand to her forehead and drew in a shaking breath.

_Jesus Christ…_ she thought, her mind in a mix of terror, horror, and disappointment. _What did I almost do back there?_ She shook her head and brought her arms around to hug herself. She tightened her hold on her own body and silently wished evil upon the person who had dared to take her from Ichigo's arms at this hour.

_Still_, she thought, ceasing the movement of her trembling hands, _I should thank whoever it was. They stopped me from telling him that I… well, they stopped me from doing something stupid, that's for sure._

Grudgingly, Rukia leaned against the door, after the person rang the doorbell again again, and peered out through the peephole.

Her eyes widened and she let out a gasp that shot through the entire apartment.

"Rukia?" Ichigo's voice floated in from the other room but she didn't pay attention to it. "Who—"

Her fingers fumbled with the locks and latches on her door and she swung it open immediately upon release.

"Momo," she breathed, panic quickly stealing its way down her throat and into the very pit of her stomach. Her eyes ran up and down her friend three times before she was fully able to comprehend what she was seeing.

Momo Hinamori was standing at Rukia's door on shaking legs. Her once sparkling evening dress was ripped around her limbs so obscene slits ran up to the tops of her thighs. Her hands were clenching the fabric together but her fingers were quivering just as much as her legs. On her neck and cheeks were several lacerations that resembled nasty teeth marks. Yet her face looked even worse of a mess than the rest of her. Mascara dripped from her streaming eyes, lipstick was smeared on her cheeks, and her skin was so pale it looked even whiter than Rukia's normal shade.

Her eyes were hollow as they rose to her friend. "Rukia," she whispered in a voice as dead as a sunflower in winter.

"Oh my God," she gasped, her hand coming to her mouth. "Momo… what…?"

Momo's hands rose to her arms and she rubbed them, her shaking was increasing with every second. Her head lolled forward and she let loose a choking, sobbing, sound. "_Rukia…_"

"Shh," in less than a second Rukia had reached out and tugged her best friend into her arms. Momo stumbled across the threshold and planted her quivering feet in front of Rukia's. Her small arms wrapped around her trembling friend as Momo's face instantly buried itself near her shoulder.

The young woman broke down and started to sob. Rukia's shoulder became wet instantly with the force of Momo's dramatic tears. Her warm skin was chilled by the woman's skin. It was only then that Rukia realized that it was the middle of December and that her best friend had just shown up at her doorstep dressed only in a ripped, gauzy, garment. She wrapped her arms around her tighter for warmth and soothingly ran her hand over Momo's thick hair. It had half-escaped from its bun and now hung limply over one shoulder.

"Momo…" Rukia whispered, the young woman held onto her best friend even tighter and continued to cry, "Shh… everything is okay… you're okay now… you're safe."

Panic swelled inside of her stomach as Rukia held tight onto Momo. What the hell had happened to her? Had something with Toshiro…

_No,_ her mind shot back immediately at such a thought, _Toshiro would never do anything like this._

Rukia bit her lip and rubbed her hand along Momo's icy back. She brushed an open zipper and felt chills pulse through her body as the pieces began to put themselves into place.

Momo's dress… ripped.

Her hair and makeup… undone.

Her mouth… bitten.

"Momo," Rukia's voice was shaking with fear. Her hands trembled as they tried to keep rubbing Momo's frigid skin. "What… what happened, Momo? What happened to you?"

Her voice came out in the most broken whisper Rukia had ever heard in her entire life.

"I—I… I d-don't remember. I—I don't r-remember Rukia!" Her voice grew louder as she sobbed. "I don't remember _a-anything!_ I just woke up and I was—I—I was like this! I think I was _r-raped_!"

"Oh my God," Rukia breathed. She swallowed hard and tried to think of something she could say. She wanted to tell her friend that she was wrong, that nothing as heinous as that could ever happen to her, that she was okay, and that everything was going to be alright. But she knew she couldn't. Momo's dress was ripped, her face was bitten, and her body was shaking with the tenacity to rival an earthquake.

Rukia knew what this looked like… and she didn't think she could lie to Momo.

"Rukia?"

Momo stiffened in her arms and immediately shrank back a bit. Rukia's head turned and she gazed with wide eyes as Ichigo came out of her bedroom, dressed in his pair of rumpled black pants that hung low around his hips.

She shook her head the tiniest bit and tightened her arms around Momo once again. Momo, however, was squirming to get out of Rukia's grasp. She slipped out of her arms and backed towards the door. Her hands were held in front of her mouth, her teeth were hastily gnawing at her minutely bleeding lips, and her eyes were streaming with seemingly unstoppable tears.

"Sweet Jesus," Ichigo breathed, coming forward from the hallway with his arms held out protectively. "Momo… what happened to you?"

She just shook her head and Rukia put up a hand to stop Ichigo from coming any closer.

"I shouldn't have come," she mumbled, saliva dripping from the edges of her mouth. Even more blood smeared on her bitten lips; it was a grotesque kind of coloring that only heightened the devastated look of Momo's entire countenance. "I should have—I interrupted—I—I… I'll just g-go…"

"No!" Cried two voices at the same time. Rukia looked over at Ichigo and he returned the stare. She swallowed hard and gently approached her terrified friend.

"Momo," Rukia whispered, coming closer to her and brushing a strand of hair behind her ear. "It's okay. It's alright. None of that matters right now. You interrupted nothing. Right now, the only thing that I care about is taking care of _you_, do you understand?"

Momo's eyes flickered twice between her and Ichigo before she nodded once, slowly.

"Momo," Ichigo said, taking a few steps forward. He stopped when Rukia sent him another warning look. "Do you know what happened to you?"

Her body trembled as she shook her head. "N-no." Her hands came up to her mouth again and she gulped in large breaths of air. More tears streamed down her face and Rukia lifted her sleeve to help wipe them away. "I j-just woke up-p in an of-ffice," she hiccupped, "And I lo-ooked like t-this."

"Oh my God," he breathed. His heated eyes met Rukia's and she nodded once.

Rukia cleared her throat and gently eased Momo's face away until she was staring into the young woman's terrified eyes. "Have you called Toshiro yet?" She asked in a very calm and collected tone.

The amount of tears increased twofold. Momo's head swung back and forth and her teeth sunk into her lower lip once again. Rukia's eyes wandered to her pink mouth and near the corner she saw a scar that could not possibly have been made by Momo's worrying teeth. Her eyes darkened and she nodded.

"That's okay," she whispered, "But we need to tell him. Soon, okay?"

"But not now." Momo's voice was pleading.

"Not now," Rukia promised. In the corner of her eye she saw Ichigo disappear into her bedroom. She heard the rustling of clothes and fought the twang of pain that entered her heart. Ichigo was getting ready to leave…

_That's probably for the best,_ her mind told her half-heartedly, _I need to be with Momo and he needs to be—_

He suddenly reappeared. He was wearing his black dress pants, an undershirt, and was carrying his coat in his hands. With a small blush Rukia realized that she was still wearing his button-up shirt underneath her robe. She was about to open her mouth when he pulled his keys out of his pocket and nodded towards her.

"Go and get dressed Rukia, and find something to cover Momo, we need to take her to the hospital."

If Rukia hadn't been holding Momo in her arms her jaw would have dropped clear to the floor.

"T-the hospital," Momo sniffled, raising her head from where it had resumed its place on Rukia's neck. "But w-why?"

"Momo," Ichigo said, his voice stern but kind. "Right now is the best time to gather evid—"

"What he means," Rukia interjected, cutting Ichigo off as swiftly as she could. He frowned at her but she frowned right back. Sure, he might have had the right intentions, but his lack of tact could have made Momo freak out completely. "Is that right now, you still have what they need to get the guy that did this to you."

Momo's eyes squinted in fear and misunderstanding and Rukia bit her lip. She had to find the best possible way to explain this.

"You said you can't remember anything, right?" She asked, hoping against hope that she was wrong about this.

Momo nodded once.

Inside of her chest, Rukia's heart fell into the pit of her stomach and began to burn. "W-Well," she cleared her throat, she couldn't be weak at a time like this. Momo needed her, "That probably means that you were drugged."

"Some drugs get out of your system in as little as twenty four hours," Ichigo supplied, coming to stand directly behind Rukia. She could feel his comforting warmth seeping through her clothing and into her back.

"That's why we need to get you to the hospital. They can document your injuries, they can check for any… residue inside of you, and they can get a sample of your blood and your urine to test for any drugs. Okay?"

Momo's eyes watered even more and her bottom lip trembled, "They'll have to touch me?" She whispered. "Down… _there_?"

Rukia nodded once.

"But… but…" she swallowed and turned her head to the side, completely hiding her face from both Ichigo and Rukia, "I'm so _sore_."

"It's okay," Rukia told her, gripping her hand tightly. Momo winced but didn't let go. "I'll be there with you the entire time."

There were a few moments of silence before Momo raised her head and nodded once.

Rukia exhaled a breath she hadn't even known she'd been holding in. "Okay, let me go get dressed and Ichigo," she turned to her lover and looked at him with earnest eyes, "Would you get Momo a proper coat?"

"Sure," he nodded and went over to her coat closet. Rukia didn't have a moment to wonder how he already knew where it was before she rushed back into her room and quickly found something to wear. She hastily found a dark, forest green, day dress in the recesses of her closet and gingerly pulled it over her head. The insides of her legs hurt far too much to wear jeans—_thank you Ichigo—_and she didn't have time to find anything more. She hurriedly ran a brush through her hair and grabbed a jacket that was flung over the back of a chair.

When she came out into the hall Ichigo was standing ready, keys in one hand, doorknob in the other. Momo was standing a few feet away from Ichigo and huddled in one of Rukia's longest coats. Both of them were staring into opposite directions, as if they were almost embarrassed to be looking at one another.

Rukia came towards them and nodded, "Alright," she said, her voice firm on the outside even though she was shaking on the inside. "Let's go."

*~*~*

Ichigo wearily rubbed a hand over his face and looked at his watch simultaneously. It read nearly four thirty in the morning. He groaned softly and wondered what the hell was taking so fucking long.

Beside him, Rukia yawned hugely. She tried to cover it up with her dainty hand but to no avail. He snorted softly and prodded her with his elbow. She blinked blearily over at him and raised one tired eyebrow.

Ichigo exhaled and nodded over to the tacky coffee machine near the side of the waiting room. "You want another cup?"

She looked balefully down at the dregs that were left inside of her own cup and shook her head. "No, that shit tasted like rat piss." She smiled ruefully at him and shrugged, "But thanks for the offer."

"No problem," Ichigo muttered, "And yeah, it does taste like rat piss. If I had thought to take Momo to my dad's clinic we'd be having a five course meal made by my sister."

Rukia raised an eyebrow and then shrugged. Obviously she didn't doubt him.

Ichigo rubbed a hand over his face and sighed, "But the equipment here is more advanced for treating…" He trailed off before saying the two words that neither of them wanted to say.

_Rape victims._

She nodded once and they lapsed into an uncomfortable silence… again.

Ichigo squirmed against his seat and tried to find a comfortable position in which to sit. That, of course, was impossible, as his ass had gone numb twenty minutes into sitting on the damn thing.

"What's taking them so long?" Rukia whispered softly, her fingers teasing the sides of her Styrofoam cup. "I mean, if it's just a routine exam… I don't understand why this would be taking, well, as long as it has." She bit her bottom lip. "I should be in there. Damn nurse… just because I'm not _technically _family…" she growled and crunched the cup in her hands. "Still… it's been so long…"

"Maybe Momo is being difficult," he mused as he readjusted himself. Again.

Rukia jolted up in her seat and turned to give him one of the deadliest glares he had ever seen.

"I didn't mean it like that!" Ichigo defended immediately, putting his hands up in case she decided to attack, "I just mean that sometimes p-people like Momo—" _rape victims_ "–tend to not want to be touched… you know, down there. It could be making it harder for them to do the exam."

She leaned back down into her seat and nodded, "Oh." She shifted her hips and rubbed the right side of her bottom. "I guess that makes sense."

"Yeah." Ichigo shoved his eyes closed and leaned his head back against the nicotine yellow wallpaper. They were the only two people in the waiting room and had been since they first got here. Nearly four hours they had been here. Nearly four hours of silence, worry, stress, and disgusting coffee.

Ichigo pressed his left hand to his forehead and slowly rubbed his thumbs against the bridge of his nose. God what he wouldn't give for a glass of scotch right now… or bourbon… hell, anything alcoholic would be a blessing. Anything to release the tension in his head.

Rukia shifted behind him and he suddenly felt her small fingers become entwined in his. His eyes opened and he glanced down at the woman holding onto his hand. He swallowed softly and she gave him a weak smile.

"Thank you," she murmured softly, keeping her eyes pinned on his, "I know you didn't have to come, but you did, and… well, just thank you."

He turned his head away and tried to hide the small—yet panicked smile—that had crept up on his face. "Psh," he snorted, "I was just being a decent human being. Anyone would have done the same."

She squeezed his fingers and nodded, turning her head away to look down the hallway.

Ichigo stared at the wall and he sighed, thinking about what Rukia had just said.

_Just what are you doing here, Ichigo?_ He asked himself.

His fingers curled in hers and he shook his head. He honestly didn't know what the hell he was doing. Never in his entire life did he think he would be sitting in a hospital waiting room with a woman that he was sleeping with, waiting for her best friend to come out from a rape exam.

_This is just too fucked up to be real._ He grumbled in frustration.

But still, it wasn't like he could just leave Rukia and Momo here. After all, neither one of them had a car and he seriously doubted that Momo would be able to ride the metro in her condition. Really, if they were just talking about things from a transportation angle then there truly was _just_ him available to help them.

_I'm being a good Samaritan_. He thought to himself as Rukia's fingers rubbed against his. The feeling sent tingles down his arm. _That's all I'm doing._

The automatic doors to the hospital slid open and both Ichigo and Rukia glanced over at them. Ichigo's stomach tightened immediately when he saw a very large man pass into the room. His eyes were drawn to his hair and he instantly recognized—with immense detestation—the bright red coloring.

"Abarai," he growled, at the same moment Rukia gasped and cried out his first name.

Ichigo's grip on Rukia's hand increase tenfold as Renji Abarai looked over at the two of them, raised his tattooed eyebrows—whether in surprise, disgust, or both—and frowned.

"Rukia," he strode over to them quickly and looked down at the two civilians from rather his lofty perch. "What are you… two… doing here?"

"Renji," she made a move to stand and as soon as she did Ichigo rose as well. His hand was still wrapped around hers and he held it close to him as she situated her dress. "Forget us, what are you doing here?" She pause and frowned at him, "You work this early?"

His gaze became slightly sheepish. "Yeah well… extra hours and all," Renji's eyes were on Ichigo's for a moment before they flitted back to Rukia's. "I got a call about a… well, I can't tell you but I came here to collect a report."

Ichigo could hear the slight hitch in her breath as Rukia spoke. "About Momo Hinamori?"

Ichigo squeezed her hand and looked carefully up at Renji Abarai. He started a bit and frowned, "How did you…?"

"We brought her here," Ichigo told him, his voice accentuating the word 'we.'

Renji looked coldly at Ichigo and nodded. "Ah, well then, I guess I might as well start with you two." He reached his hand into his pocket and pulled out a small notebook and pen. He looked up at Rukia and spoke directly to her. "Now, Ms. Hinamori appeared… where and when?"

"She came to my apartment at around one in the morning." Rukia said clearly, waiting as Renji scribbled the facts down on the paper.

"How did she seem?"

"Terrified," Ichigo interjected, cutting off Rukia's answer. "Her dress was ripped, her lip was bloody, and she was shaking."

Renji's pen stilled in his hand and he looked up, his eyes now blazing hot, "You were there?"

Ichigo nodded once. "I was."

"At one o'clock in the _morning_?"

"Yes." Ichigo received a small amount of satisfaction at the murderous way Abarai looked at the moment.

Renji looked down at Rukia, his hand shaking and his eyes blaring with icy fire. "Rukia what the—"

"Not now," She cut in sharply. Her eyes were deathly narrow and her mouth was set into a very firm line. "Both of you," her head shot over to Ichigo's and she glared at him as well. "Just stop it."

"He started it," Ichigo grumbled, keeping Rukia's hand imprisoned in his own even though she had started tugging it away in anger.

"I did not," Renji hissed, his fist tightening around his pen and his teeth grinding together angrily. "You pompous ba—"

"Renji!" Rukia snapped at him; she ripped her hand from Ichigo's and delivered a swift punch into her friend's kidney. He winced and rubbed the spot delicately as she furiously strode to the reception desk. "Men… I swear…" she spoke a moment with the receptionist and then pointed towards the back. After a moment, the woman sitting behind the desk nodded and Rukia walked swiftly into the hospital.

That left Ichigo and Renji standing alone inside of the reception area. The two of them were angrily sizing each other up, their eyes glaring out to the sides. Ichigo was rather positive that—even though _Detective Abarai_ was a bit bigger than him—he could take him on. Ichigo had speed on his side, whereas Tattoo Head only had muscle… and a gun. He brought his hands—the right one feeling oddly cold now that Rukia wasn't holding it—to his sides and then started to cross his arms.

Renji turned his head sharply to Ichigo and snarled angrily. Ichigo just allowed a smug smirk to cover his face.

Neither of them said a word as they simply stood.

"So…" Renji spoke after five minutes of rather uncomfortable and testosterone-fueled silence. "You and Rukia."

Ichigo cringed mentally at the insinuation but nodded anyway. "Yeah… me and… Rukia."

Abarai snorted and he shook his head. "My own fault I guess…"

Ichigo's eyes became less tight but his posture did not lose any rigidity. "What do you mean by that?"

Abarai's eyes became slits and he tightened his hands into fists. He turned to Ichigo and moved so that he was facing him directly. Ichigo's gaze became hard and he glowered at the towering man. He was breathing hard, his nostrils flaring in and out, and Ichigo could tell that his temper was a mass of fire barely banked.

"I've been in love with Rukia Kuchiki ever since we were kids." He stated shortly.

Ichigo's stomach lurched painfully.

"Even when we went our separate ways I still thought of her as the perfect woman. She's Rukia _Kuchiki_." He shook his head and passed a hand through his hair. "But after all that time… I never did anything to win her. I just thought I'd stay on the sidelines and wait for an opportunity. But no…" he looked up at Ichigo and snorted with disgust, "She has someone else… _you_ no less."

"Shove it Abarai," Ichigo snarled, "You should just accept that you acted too late." He also wanted to add that if he thought that Rukia was perfect then he was seriously demented. She was anything _but_ perfect.

_Maybe that's why I'm attracted to her,_ Ichigo mused silently. _All those annoying faults just add together to create something… magnificent._

"I am accepting it," Abarai hissed back, jerking Ichigo into reality and moving his face so that it was less than an inch from the slightly shorter man. "I'm just making sure you understand that if you so much as injure one hair on her head I will come after you with everything I have. My nine mil, my rank as a detective, and the backing of the police department. Do I make myself clear?"

"Perfectly," Ichigo growled, his nose brushing Abarai's. "Now why don't you go to Momo like a good little detective and do your fucking job?"

The two men stood perfectly and rigidly still in the heated room. Both of them were glaring at each other with the full force of their hatred-filled eyes, both were breathing heavily, and both were just itching to rip out the other's throat.

"Please tell me you two aren't going to start making out."

They both turned at the sound of Rukia's voice echoing through the waiting room. Ichigo blinked when he realized that a pale—but whole—looking Momo Hinamori stood beside her, her body still wrapped in Rukia's coat, although out of the bottom peeked a polka-dotted hospital gown.

"No!" He shouted immediately, jumping back a bit and sending a swift glare over to Renji. "Christ Rukia, you should _know_ that I don't swing the other way."

A low growl came from Renji but when Ichigo looked over at Rukia he saw that she wasn't _angry_, per se, her cheeks were just tinted a rather interesting shade of pink.

_Is that because she's angry or because she knows I'm right?_ He wondered as he shoved his hands into his pockets and tightly gripped his keys.

Rukia turned her head away and blinked at the floor.

Ichigo grinned smugly. _Because she knows I'm right._

Beside him, Renji coughed lightly and strode forward, his hand relaxing its grip on the pad and pen he was holding. "Ms. Hinamori, I presume?"

Ichigo watched as Momo nodded gently, she hugged Rukia's coat tighter to her and swallowed, "Soon to be Momo Hitsugaya actually."

Something inside of Ichigo became warm as he heard Momo talk about her impending wedding. After everything she had gone through, the girl still had it in her to think about the future… to be happy…. His grin softened and in his mind his opinion of Momo went up several points.

"Alright then, my name is Renji Abarai, I'm a police detective with the Karakura Police Department. If you would, I'd like to ask you a couple of questions. Do you think you're up for it?"

Momo nodded twice and then looked at Rukia for support. She nodded encouragingly and motioned to Renji. "He's one of my friends, Momo, you'll be safe in his hands."

"O-Okay," she murmured, her big, gray, eyes looking up at the detective as if he was half small fluffy kitten and half enormous pit bull. "I don't know how much I can tell you but… I can try."

"If you'll come with me please," he said, holding his arm out in a guiding yet non-threatening manner. "We can discuss this in private."

"I'll be right here," Rukia said softly as Momo walked into a small alcove in the hospital corridor, Renji followed after a moment, his pen and pad ready.

Rukia stood and watched them go, her eyes dark and filled with troubling thoughts. Ichigo slowly came up to her and stood behind her. His shadow was deep and dark across her skin but she didn't seem to notice him as he stood.

"Is she okay?" He asked after a few moments of silence.

Rukia nodded once, "She'll be fine physically. She told me that the doctors would have to do some tests to find if a drug was used. There was no semen in her vaginal area but there was bruising. They don't have any DNA yet but they're hoping they'll find some in the bite marks." She swallowed and raised a hand to press it to her mouth. "I just… I can't believe something like this happened to Momo." She turned to Ichigo and he saw tears brimming in her eyes. It should have frightened him but, oddly enough, it didn't. "_My_ Momo, my best friend. It shouldn't have happened to her. I should have insisted that we go home from the party _together_."

Ichigo took two steps forward and drew Rukia into a warm hug. She melted easily into his embrace and he tightened it infinitesimally. Her arms wrapped around his waist and her cheek pressed against his jacket. He heard her inhale deeply and slowly rubbed his hand over her back.

"Whoever did this," he said softly, his words coming out in soft puffs of air, "Is sick, twisted, and deserves to be destroyed."

He heard footsteps coming and saw Renji and Momo shuffling towards them. Ichigo's arms wrapped around Rukia even tighter and he spoke so the two approaching people could hear him as well. "We just have to have some faith. I wholeheartedly believe that Renji Abarai will be able to catch whoever did this." He paused and sent his penetrating glare towards his… his… _rival_. He was staring back with equal fortitude and his jaw was clenching hard at the sight of Rukia in Ichigo's arms. "Isn't that right, Detective Abarai?"

Rukia's head rose but she didn't loosen her arms from around Ichigo's waist. She swallowed and looked over to her friends. She blinked twice at Renji, her eyes still misting, and said, "Right… Renji?"

Momo looked up at the detective and swallowed hard, her fingers fiddling with the edges of Rukia's jacket. She didn't have to say anything but they all knew that she was depending on him the most.

Renji nodded once, his eyes still glued to the locked forms of Ichigo Kurosaki and Rukia Kuchiki. "I'll do my very best."

Rukia smiled softly, "Good." She slowly detached herself from Ichigo's grip and finally went over to Momo. She held out her hand and the young, slightly trembling, woman and took it gently. The two stood there, their femininity contrasting equally with the two men in the room.

"Alright," Rukia murmured, she turned to Renji and nodded, "Thank you, Renji. I know you'll do all you can."

She turned to Momo and squeezed her hand gently, "Now we need to go and tell Toshiro."

Momo gulped and pulled the coat tighter around her entire body. "Will he understand?" She asked in a voice as quiet as it was fearful.

"Of course," Rukia murmured, her hands gently massaging Momo's wrists, "He loves you, never forget that. Love can conquer anything Momo, you know that…" she smiled gently and nodded, "Especially a love like yours."

Momo hesitated for a moment before nodding softly and hugging Rukia's jacket around her even more.

Finally, Rukia turned to Ichigo and looked at him with quietly pleading eyes. "Would you drive us there, Ichigo?"

Out of the corner of his eye Ichigo could swear that he saw Renji surge forward, like he was going to offer to take them to Toshiro's apartment in his squad car, but he held himself back. It was as if he knew that his time was up. This was Ichigo's show now. His mouth closed and he cleared his throat softly.

Ichigo looked over at Rukia and nodded once. "Yeah, I'll take you guys where ever you want to go."

With that one sentence Rukia's face melted into something so beautiful that Ichigo's heart started beating something furious. He swallowed and tried to force away the feeling.

"Come on," he murmured, his body going towards the exit to the hospital. He reached out and placed a hand on the small of Rukia's back. He could have sworn that he heard Abarai suck in a small breath at the action but he didn't care. Rukia was with him, he was with Rukia, and together, they'd take Momo home and make sure that she was alright when she faced her fiancé.

As he opened the doors to his car for the respective women—both were sitting in the back—what Renji Abarai had said came running back through his mind.

"_I'm just making sure you understand that if you so much as injure one hair on her head I will come after you with everything I have. My nine mil, my rank as a detective, and the backing of the police department. Do I make myself clear?"_

Ichigo slid into the drivers' side and listened closely to the address they gave him. He immediately started the car and began to mindlessly drive in the early dusk of the morning.

_Do I understand?_ Ichigo wondered to himself as he turned the corner. _Just what does Rukia Kuchiki mean to me?_

**(A/N: Alrighty, lots going on in that chapter!**

**Second Disclaimer: I have never been the victim of sexual violence. I've never known anyone who was a victim of sexual violence. All I know of sexual violence I've learned in school and from Law and Order SVU. If offense at any point in this part in the story I apologize. Please take into consideration my lack of knowledge and the fact that this is just a story.**

**PLEASE REMEMBER TO REVIEW!!!)**


	34. Chapter 33

**Disclaimer: I do not own Bleach or any Bleach affiliates.**

_**Odalisque**_

**Chapter 33**

Rukia sat quietly on the sofa of her best friends' house. Her hand was wrapped around the arm of the soft and her body was sitting rigidly in the seat.

Toshiro sat in front of them. His arms were shaking and his jaw was quivering.

His voice was as tight as could be as he said, "Why didn't you tell me?"

Rukia frowned softly, "Toshiro… I just did."

His eyes narrowed angrily and he whispered, "Why didn't you tell me right when it _happened_?"

Rukia's mind whirled as she convincingly regurgitated what she had thought to say before she had arrived. "Momo came to the party with me, Toshiro, I think that after the attack her mind just went to me first just for that reason. When she came to my apartment she immediately talked about seeing you as soon as possible." Rukia shook her head softly and swallowed, "I just thought that it would have been better if we went to the hospital first. After that I was just so caught up that I forgot to call you. It's my fault. I'm sorry."

Toshiro swallowed hard and nodded once. The sound of rustling clothing brought them both back to their senses.

Momo appeared in front of the door frame that lead to the hallway and stood silently.

"Momo," he whispered and immediately rose from the couch.

Rukia breathed a small sigh of relief and touched her cool wrist to her heated forehead. She closed her eyes and listened while Toshiro folded a now-sobbing Momo into his arms.

It had been one hour since they had left the hospital. Rukia was now sitting on Momo and Toshiro's soft couch. She had just finished telling Momo's fiancé everything that had happened since Momo had shown up at Rukia's door at around one in the morning.

The young man had been stoic, solid, and completely silent as Rukia recounted Momo's scarce recollections, her appearance afterwards, and the trip to the hospital. Only his eyes gave way to what he saw. Dread, helplessness, worry, horror, and anger all mixed in his gaze as Rukia spoke.

She closed her eyes and slowly ran her hand over them.

Getting inside the apartment had been the worst.

_Toshiro, his hair tousled and his eyes bleary with sleep, pulled open the door and squinted into the light of dawn._

_Rukia watched as his eyes blinked over to Momo and then to her. He saw her messy hair, her tear-stained face, and her shaking limbs and immediately jerked the door back._

"_Momo!"_

_He rushed forward and put his arms around his fiancée immediately. Momo sniffled and tried to fight back the tears that were threatening to break from behind her eyes. Rukia swallowed and bit her bottom lip as her best friend's head bent down to Toshiro's neck. She let out a small sob and wrapped her arms around him._

"_Shiro," she gasped, "I—I'm s-sorry!"_

"_Shh," he whispered, his hand rubbing her back in slow, tender circles, "Shh, its okay. It's alright. Just… Jesus Momo what happened to you?"_

After that Momo had gone into her room and changed into a pair of old sweatpants and Rukia had stayed out here to try and explain what had happened to Toshiro.

Rukia wearily rubbed her hand over her face and felt the oil that had accumulated there since she had left her apartment. She sighed and wanted to know when she could go home. It wasn't that she didn't want to stay and help her friend… it was just… she was _so_ tired. She wanted nothing more than to go home and curl up inside of her bed and sleep for ages. It was Saturday after all, she didn't have any pressing appointments to go to or any shopping that needed to be done.

She just needed to _sleep_.

Something in the way she was sitting, the way she was breathing, or the way her hand was caressing her greasy forehead must have given her away. The next moment, Momo and Toshiro were standing in front of her. Momo was perched near her fiancé's shoulder and his arm was wrapped securely around her waist.

"Rukia," she wheezed, "I-It's okay. I know you're tired. You can g-go home now. I'll be fine." She looked over at Toshiro and gave an extremely weak and watered-down smile. "I know that Shiro will take care of me. I know h-he will."

Rukia nodded and rubbed her cool fingers together, dabbing the bags under her eyes, "I don't want you guys to think that I'm leaving just to—"

"Rukia," Toshiro cut in, his arm tightening around her waist, "You've done so much. Go home. We'll be fine."

She looked from one trembling face to the other. Both of them were filled with such… _horror_. Rukia swallowed and felt the pit of her stomach dissolve. She couldn't even imagine what they must be feeling right now. Momo, who was more than likely raped yet couldn't even remember anything that had happened… and Toshiro, who was probably out of his mind with worry.

She just couldn't imagine what they were going through.

Rukia nodded softly and rose from the couch with careful, calculating, steps. Her legs wobbled slightly from exhaustion and her arms ached with fatigue. Toshiro didn't offer a hand to help her as she stood but Rukia didn't mind. She knew where his attention was and, honestly, if she was in his position she would have done the same.

She moved her gaze from one person to the next and nodded. "Okay… I'll call later just to check on you."

"No," Momo whispered, her voice watery, "You should go home. Get some rest."

Rukia straightened her dress and nodded. She reached out and placed her hand on Momo's arm. The young woman squeezed lightly and gave her another nod.

"Just call me if you need anything else, okay?"

Momo and Toshiro nodded as one. "Okay."

Rukia swallowed and turned towards the front door. She opened it, turned, and gave Momo one last look; damn, she couldn't even galvanize a smile for her friend. She walked out into the hallway and shut the door quietly behind her. She paused and softly pressed her forehead against the wood, waiting. She heard gentle voices from behind the oak and she listened for a moment.

"_It'll be alright."_

"_We'll find a way to get through this."_

"_I still love you."_

The corners of Rukia's mouth rose just a bit and she sighed against the wood. She pushed herself away and began to walk down the rather long hallway to the stairwell. Her feet were sluggish as she moved from one step to the next. Her hand slid lazily down the rail and, for the first time in months, she ignored how many germs were probably latching onto her fingers. She continued moving even though her limbs encouraged her just to plop down on the stairs and take a rest.

_Oh come off it,_ Rukia chided herself; _you've been this tired before. Besides, you still need to walk home._

She pushed open the door and walked out into the lobby. An attendant smiled softly at her and she nodded back. Rukia passed a hand through her hair and blinked her gritty eyes out at the bright sunlight that streamed through the revolving doors.

_Ichigo has probably already gone home,_ she mused as she pushed that door open as well. _But still… after all he's done for me— _she shook her head quickly and amended her thoughts; _us, he's helped us. Not just me._

She moved her hand up slightly to block the morning sun from her eyes. She drew in a deep breath of chilled, clear, air and felt it squirm its way down her entire body. It helped to revitalize her body as she turned towards her apartment. She only needed to go a few blocks but at this moment it felt like she needed to go a few miles.

She hadn't gone three steps when the honking of a horn stopped her.

Rukia turned around and frowned. Glinting in the bright, December, sun was a shining black Mercedes Benz, parked directly outside of Momo's apartment building.

She stood stock still as the engine revved and the person drew the car nearer to her body.

Rukia's face was reflected in the glossiness of the window and she had to fight the urge to gasp at her haggard expression before it rolled down quickly and soundlessly.

Ichigo's face was visible in the drivers' side.

He frowned at her and raised one eyebrow, "What are you doing? Get in, I'll take you home."

Rukia didn't need to be told twice. Her hand was on the knob to the door in the next second. Her tired body slid into the comfortable seat and she instantly placed her head on the headrest. Her grimy hair fell down by her shoulders and her eyelids slid shut as the car started again.

"Thank you," Rukia whispered.

Ichigo only scoffed, "Like I'd let you walk home after all that."

Rukia turned her face towards him and allowed her forehead to slip into a small frown.

He cleared his throat and she noticed his fingers tightening on the wheel. "What I mean is, I've been here for this long, I don't see a reason why I shouldn't see it through until the end."

Rukia watched as his cheeks tinged a light pink. Her heart warmed at the sight and she nodded in understanding, turning her head back to the front. Her hands twitched in her lap as Ichigo drove on. His fingers were slow and steady on the wheel and the movements he made with the car were flawless. She looked down at her lap and saw her hands twisting slightly. They ached to cross the small divide between them and grab his fingers but she held back. She didn't want him to think… didn't want him to think… well, anything.

They wound in front of her apartment building and she directed him towards the underground lot. He smoothly parked his Benz and the two of them got out without another word being said.

Silence ensued as they entered the elevator and made their way towards Rukia's door. Her mind was completely focused on getting into her warm, comfortable, bed; she didn't even think to consider Ichigo following her. She just guessed that he would understand how tired she was and go his separate way.

She tore off her winter jacket and tossed it somewhere in the hallway. Soft pillows… warm sheets… heavy cover… it all sounded so _good_.

She entered her bedroom and nearly wept at the sight of her plush bed. Her hands trembled as she dragged her dress over her head and stood silently in the center of the room, dressed only in her underwear.

She heard the click of the doorknob and nearly jumped out of her skin. She whipped around and stared at the man who was now standing in her bedroom.

_He's not gone?_ She thought, half in incredulity and half in confusion. _What does he… wait… he better not want sex right now._

"Ichigo," she whispered, her voice filled with evident exhaustion, "I—I'm really tired. I don't think I—"

"Please," he muttered, instantly tossing off his undershirt and fumbling with the buckle on his pants. "I'm tired as hell too. I just wanna sleep and I don't feel like going back to my own apartment." He smirked as he stripped down to his boxers. "I told you, I've been here for this long, I don't really see a reason why I shouldn't see it through." He looked up at her and grinned ruefully, "Plus, you were so friggin tired that you forgot to lock your own front door. I'm needed to protect you."

Rukia only swallowed and nodded. Any other day she would have hit him over the head and called him an ass for saying such a thing. However, in the wake of what had happened to Momo… she was glad that he was here.

She slowly moved to her dresser and found an old tee shirt, which she slipped on after removing her bra. She quickly slipped into her cool bed and snuggled insatiably under the sheets. Her entire form curled lovingly against her pillow and she sighed happily. As she continued wiggling into her heavenly bed she felt his weight press down on the other side.

Rukia was stiff in her bed as he wiggled under the covers as well. It was only when he brought his arm out, wound it around her waist, and pulled her to his chest that Rukia let out the sigh she had been unwittingly holding in.

She was asleep within seconds.

*~*~*

When Rukia woke up the first thing she realized was that she wasn't really able to move. Not that she minded, of course. She just kind of wanted to know why. Groggily, she frowned and wiggled slightly inside of her warm and tender prison.

One hand was wrapped around her waist while another was placed underneath of her head, making it one of the most comfortable pillows she had ever used. She shifted again and found that both of her legs were trapped underneath one long, lean, and muscular appendage.

She sighed and wriggled further into the warmth that was Ichigo's arms and pulled her hand up to her warm forehead to brush a stray lock of hair. Her soft back was pressed against his pleasantly burning chest and she moaned gently at the wonderful heat. She stilled for a moment and waited for her groggy senses to sharpen. As they did, she began to feel things that she had been ignorant of only a second ago.

Rukia could feel his strong and steady heartbeat through the vibrations in her back. She could feel his breathing as he inhaled and exhaled in his sleep. She could feel how his muscles flexed and twitched peacefully as he dreamed. She could feel his warmth and his security and…

Oh, she could feel _him_.

Rukia's heart beat faster as she inhaled his perfectly beautiful and spicy scent. It encompassed her and filled her and made her feel so at peace.

Rukia fell back to sleep, completely content.

*~*~*

The second time Rukia woke up she was able to move freely around on her bed.

She frowned instantly and shot up in the bed. Her hair flew by her shoulders and the warm sheet fell despondently to her waist. She instantly brought a hand to her face and drew in a sharp breath. Her hand flew to the opposite side of her large bed, feeling the depression left by Ichigo's body. As she pressed down on the mattress a whiff of his delectable scent came back up to Rukia's nose. She shuddered softly and remembered that it was this exact scent that had lulled her to sleep only a few hours ago.

She jerked her head over and glanced at the clock beside her bed. It was four in the afternoon. She had been asleep for nearly eleven straight hours.

She slowly pulled the sheet off of her body and rubbed a hand against her eyes. "Ichigo?" She called out, hoping against hope that her apartment was not empty.

She paused for a moment and held her breath.

_Yeah, as if holding your breath will make your hearing better,_ she thought in annoyance with herself.

There was a soft clinking of glass outside in the kitchen and Rukia exhaled in relief. It was either a burglar or her lover; and considering that her apartment building had a security system akin to that of a nuclear testing facility, she had to assume that it was Ichigo.

_My lover._

"Out here," he called back and Rukia's heart sped up exponentially at the sound of his voice.

She smiled and slid completely out of the bed. Her bare legs were chilled against the cool air and her arms came up to cross against her chest. She stepped lightly into the hallway and then moved towards the kitchen. As she slowly moved around the corner she was met with the sight of Ichigo in a loose pair of jeans and his NICE VIBE tee shirt, sitting at her island. She frowned a bit as she walked onto the tiles. The cold stone shot tingles up into her spine and she thought belatedly about her nice and warm bed.

"Hey," she said softly, her voice still gritty with sleep.

He snorted quietly and stood up from his seat at the island. Rukia's eyes stayed on her marble countertop for a moment and her mind briefly flashed back to Ichigo's nearly identical island back in his apartment. That and what they had done on it the first time they slept together.

Another shudder—one that didn't have anything to do with the chilly tiles—passed through her body.

"Hey sleepyhead," he said with a small smirk. He walked over to her and gently pressed a kiss to her waiting lips.

"Mm," Rukia whispered, inching her toes up for another kiss, Ichigo gladly reciprocated and brought his hand up to the back of her neck. He softly delved into her mouth and she groaned as they played delightfully with one another's tongues.

Ichigo drew back first and Rukia giggled when his breath tickled her tender neck.

She brought one of her hands away from her body and plucked lightly at his shirt. "Where did you get this?"

Ichigo snorted and shook his head, "The clothing fairy."

Rukia rolled her eyes, "Seriously." She crossed her arms again and gave him a small glare, "I don't remember you leaving any clothes here so…" she raised an eyebrow and bit her bottom lip in concentration, "You went home and got some." It was meant to be a statement but came out as a question instead.

"Bingo, you win the prize."

"No need to be sarcastic," she muttered, her ego bruising slightly at the sound of his irritated voice. "Besides, what crawled up your ass this mor—afternoon?"

Ichigo's scowl deepened and he raked a hand through is hair. His expression seemed more contrite than usual—well, as contrite as Ichigo could look anyway—and he wrinkled his nose in irritation. "Sorry… I just keep thinking."

Rukia's raised eyebrow went up even more. "About?"

"Momo," he answered shortly.

And Rukia's world came crashing down.

_Momo._

One of her hands went to her mouth and she swallowed hard. "Oh," she muttered, a wave of worry washing over her entire body.

She wondered how her best friend was right now. She knew that Toshiro would do his best to make sure that everything was alright with her but still… would Momo be alright enough to receive his well-meant intentions?

Rukia shook her head and ran a hand through her hair; she sure as hell hoped so. Momo would need all the help she could get if she was going to get through this with her head held up. She would need the support from her friend and more importantly from her fiancé. Still, if anyone was to repair the damage done by some sicko it was most definitely Toshiro.

Rukia sighed moved in closer towards Ichigo. He stood stiff but Rukia kept moving until her forehead was pressed against Ichigo's chest.

"Thank you," she murmured softly, reaching her hands up and placing her warm palms on both of his pectorals. "For everything you did."

She felt one arm come up and wrap itself around her waist. She stepped forward only an inch more and felt the rest of his body press against the length of hers.

"Che," he scoffed, rubbing her back in slow, gentle, circles. "It was nothing."

"No," Rukia refuted, her tone stubborn yet soft. "It wasn't 'nothing.' Everything you did for me… for Momo… just," she sighed and let the edge of her mouth quirk up. "Thank you. I know that if it hadn't been for you we probably wouldn't have made it to the hospital fast enough."

She looked up and found a flaming blush skittering over Ichigo's cheeks. She smiled gently and pressed a small kiss to his sternum. He sighed and she wrapped both of her arms around his slim waist. He did the same and continued rubbing her back.

"I know you won't accept it," she said, her voice teasingly chastising but her tone soft, "But thank you, Ichigo. Thank you very much."

"Che," was all he said.

Rukia took a moment and inhaled Ichigo's tempting scent once again. She just loved the way that his smell could comfort her even in the worst of times.

She mentally shook her head and told herself to forget that. She'd be able to stew on Ichigo's lovely scent later.

She looked up at him and pulled her mouth into a crooked smile, "What were your plans for the rest of the day?"

Ichigo leaned back a bit but Rukia did not relinquish her hold on him. She simply looked up and smiled gently at how lingering traces of red were still resting on his cheeks.

"I'm not sure," he mumbled, Rukia raised an eyebrow at his tome. It seemed like he was trying to sound nonchalant about it but was failing miserably. "It's already four in the afternoon. I was thinking I'd go home and watch a game or a movie or something."

Rukia's heart, for some odd reason, dropped into the pit of her stomach.

"You don't have to."

The sentence was out of her mouth before she could even think about whether or not she wanted to say it. Rukia squeezed her eyes shut and mentally berated herself for uttering such a stupid, idiotic, and mindless thing.

_Why would you do something like that?_ She demanded of herself,_ why, after all you've done to keep it a secret, why would you say something so… pitiful?_

Rukia bit her bottom lip with her white, even, teeth and inwardly sighed. Keep it a secret? Yeah right, just a few hours ago she had been about to tell him that she… that she…

Well, the point was that she had been _about_ to tell him when his head had been in her lap, when they had finished several rounds of hot sex, and right before Momo had come knocking at her door.

_Am I really even _trying _to keep this a secret any longer?_ She thought as she pressed her forehead against Ichigo's warm chest. _Or do I want him to know?_

"What else would I do?"

Ichigo's voice jarred her out of her small reverie and she instantly jerked her head up at him. She blinked twice at his warm amber eyes and gave herself a little shake. "For what?" She responded numbly.

Ichigo's already scowling brow furrowed even more and he rolled his eyes in exasperation, "You told me I didn't have to go. I'm asking you what else would I do?"

Rukia's throat suddenly became very thick with something she could not name. "Ah," she sputtered, her lips tripping over one another as she tried to get out what she wanted to say, "W-Well… you could always stay here." She said, forcing the words out as quickly as possible, "We could watch a movie or we could order Chinese food or we could go out to eat or… or… we could… um…" she swallowed again and tried not to choke. She looked up at him and saw amusement glittering in his beautiful eyes. She told herself not to get angry at his smug little expression so she looked away quickly. She stared at the word 'NICE' on his shirt as she finished her sentence with a pathetic bribe, "Or we could just have more… sex."

Neither one of them spoke for a moment. Rukia felt her cheeks flaming as she buried her face into his shirt. She didn't want to see the look on his face.

_Christ,_ she moaned, _I can't believe I just put up such a cheap bribe. That was so horrible even _I_ gagged at it._

It only got worse when Ichigo threw his head back and started laughing.

Rukia felt the vibrations from his chest as he chuckled, pealed, and even added in a bit of that deep, hearty, throaty laughter that shook Rukia's entire being, even as she stayed vacuumed to her lovers' chest.

"Christ," she muttered, growling into his warm body. His hands gripped her tighter and tighter as he shook with indomitable laughter. Rukia could even surmise that there might have been tears running down his face right now.

_Bastard,_ she snarled, pushing herself away from his still shaking form, _I _know_ he wants it too._

She took three steps away from him and crossed her arms over her chest. The warmth of Ichigo's embrace evaporated like it had never even been there. The cold of the tiles seeped into her limbs once again and she wrinkled her nose in distaste. It was only then, after a few seconds of staring daggers at Ichigo and allowing the cold to wash over her, that she realized she wasn't wearing a bra and that—if she didn't warm up soon—she'd have a rather embarrassing problem on her hands. Rukia growled and rubbed her legs together, trying to find some semblance of warmth from the friction.

The chortling continued for another two minutes before Rukia's temper became so frayed that she took three steps forward, bunched her hand into a fist, and sent it hurtling into Ichigo's spasmodic stomach.

His laughter stopped immediately but Rukia didn't stay around to find out. She twirled on her feet, set her arms by her hips, and angrily stomped towards her bedroom.

"Rukia!" She heard him gasp, "Wait! I didn't mean—okay maybe I did—but I didn't… not like—"

"Oh shut up," Rukia shouted back at him, slamming closed her bedroom door and marching over to her closet. She quickly threw off her small shirt and pulled on a bra. As she fumbled with the clasp she heard his footsteps approaching from the hallway. Snapping it in place, she reached for an older tee shirt and threw it over top of her head.

The door opened behind her and she stiffened momentarily.

"Go away," she snarled, her hands viciously opening another drawer and yanking out a pair of her oldest and most comfortable jeans.

"No," he replied evenly. Rukia jerked her head back to him and glared at the cocky smile that was plastered on his face. He crossed his arms and leaned against the doorframe, his lanky body filled practically the entire space and he grinned at her. "After all, weren't you the one to suggest that we have more sex?"

"Oh bite me," she seethed, pulling on her jeans and snapping the button closed.

"Gladly," Ichigo sniggered, "But do you really want to get undressed after all of that work?"

"Just leave," Rukia muttered, "Go home and enjoy your movie, Ichigo. Or whatever the fuck you're going to do. I don't care."

"You know," he said, just as conversationally as ever, "I don't think I want to. Movies just sound so dull in comparison to what you're—"

"I take it back!" Rukia shouted, turning around and throwing her hand into the air, "All of it! Okay? I take it back." She glared at him and huffed as she dashed into the bathroom and instantly set a record time for regaining personal hygiene. Once she was finished she marched outside, past Ichigo's grinning form, went to her closet, and grabbed an old and loose coat from inside. She slipped it over her shoulders and barreled directly past Ichigo—who had, at some point in the past four seconds, been able to teleport himself near her.

She trudged into the kitchen and found her purse sitting on the counter. After checking to make sure that her wallet was inside she pulled it off the marble and stomped towards the door.

Only to find herself abruptly cut off by all of Ichigo's body.

Her blaring eyes met his with an angry heat. He was still looking delightfully amused and completely full of himself. Rukia's hand shot out to grapple for the doorknob but her wrist was instantly grasped by Ichigo's hand. She tried to twist away but absolutely nothing happened. His fingers stayed clenched around her small wrist and she snarled even harder at him.

"Just where," he asked, "Are you going?"

He did it so fast Rukia didn't even know how it happened. One minute his mocking mouth was floating above hers and the next second it was down by her ear, tugging on the distended lobe and playfully licking it with his tongue.

Rukia honestly never knew that her knees could actually turn into jell-o.

"Out," she gasped, her fingers curling onto Ichigo's restrictive hand and slowly brushing against them.

"Out… where?" He whispered, his hot breath puffing against her neck and swirling around her pulse.

"T-To eat-t," she shuddered, her entire body shivering at the feeling of him inching closer and closer to her.

She could feel his chest pressing against hers and she shook even more.

"Where?" He demanded softly, pressing his lips against her neck.

_Oh God, _Rukia's mind moaned. _If this is how he conducts an interrogation I want him to question me from here until the end of time._

Rukia's eyes rolled into the back of her head, "I d-don't kn-know…"

"How about," he paused for a moment to bite down on the juncture of her neck and shoulder and Rukia instantly leaned against him, her will surrendering completely to him. "You and I… go to a very nice… very quiet… and very chic… restaurant near the heart of town."

Rukia didn't even have to speak for him to know that she wanted to go.

A low chuckle rumbled against her entire body and she melted even further into the warm hardness that was Ichigo Kurosaki. Her face was pressed completely against his neck and her body was curled warmly around hers.

He grinned into her throbbing pulse, "I'm guessing that's a yes?"

Rukia just buried her nose into his collarbone and nodded.

"That's a yes."

*~*~*

Ichigo pulled Rukia's chair out for her and she sat gracefully in the seat. He pushed it in lightly and snickered when she theatrically thrust her nose into the air.

"You like it?" He asked her, well aware that—judging by how her eyes were sweeping the room back and forth—she seemed quite enamored by his restaurant of choice.

"I do," she said, her nose tilting back to take in the delicious smell of home-cooked food and warm drinks. She brought her face back down and gave him a skeptical look. "Why do you know where all the good restaurants are?" She demanded, pausing for a moment to shuck off her jacket, "I mean, first it's Urahara's and now this place," she waved her hand around and snorted. "Honestly, I wouldn't have pegged you for a person with actual perception."

"Oh please," Ichigo shot back playfully, "I've got more perception in one pinky than you do in your entire body."

"Ha!" Rukia rolled her eyes sarcastically, "Yeah right."

_If you'd actually had some perception you would have realized how I feel about you right now._

"Besides," Ichigo said, picking up his menu and scanning over the pages, "I just know this place because my sister told me about it."

"Which sister?" Rukia asked, picking up her own menu and scanning the pages.

"Which do you think?" He asked her sarcastically.

"I'm guessing it was Yuzu," Rukia remarked breezily, "I doubt Karin would ever step foot in a place this… cheerful."

"At least she's not gone fully goth," Ichigo remarked, "She's just surly."

"Yes well be thankful for that."

Ichigo smirked at her and Rukia smiled back, her eyes holding a sort of warmth that they had never expressed before. Ichigo broke contact first and turned to the waitress to give her their drink orders.

"Coffee?"

"Black."

The waitress nodded, gave Ichigo the once over, glanced at Rukia, saw her glaring, and scurried away as quickly as possible. Ichigo's eyes lingered on her quickly retreating form and then turned back to Rukia. She folded her hands under her chin and cocked her head to the side.

"Black coffee this late at night?" He inquired.

"Well," Rukia muttered, staring him straight in the eye, "I figure I might be up late tonight."

"Oh… you do, do you?" Ichigo said, his voice just hinting of things that were to come. "What, pray tell, do you think you'll be doing?"

Rukia leaned against the table a bit and allowed her shirt to be pulled down against her breasts. She saw Ichigo's eyes zeroing in on her chest and she smiled. "Hmm, I was thinking that I might exercise."

He leaned in further until their faces were a mere two feet apart, "Exercise?"

"And you know how I like to exercise," Rukia continued, blowing a piece of hair out of her face, "I like to get extremely sweaty… even dirty… and I really, really, enjoy that feeling I get right at the end…"

She could see how hungry Ichigo was through the carnal look in his eyes. She grinned smugly to herself and inched further across the table. She wanted him close. Close enough to smell and taste and feel. Her grin widened even more when she saw his smirking, kissable, mouth become feral with want.

"At the end?" He questioned.

"Right at the end…" Rukia finished on a whisper, her head tilted to the side and her eyes flickered over to the side.

_Oh shit._

She recoiled immediately. "At the end of the fourth quarter," Rukia said, mustering all of her power just to try and remain calm and seem as professional and normal as possible. "It would seem that Suigetsu's stock is going up, even in light of the recent recession. We'd have to make sure that all of the buyers and owners of stock for Gotei and Suigetsu don't get nervous about the merger and release their… ah, stocks."

Ichigo—who was still leaning against the table—blinked his eyes in confusion and furrowed his brow until a miniature replica of the Grand Canyon seemed to be imprinted on his face.

"What the hell are you…?"

Rukia's eyes flickered over to the side, to what—or who—she had witnessed not a moment ago. She looked back at him with silently pleading eyes. Begging inwardly that he wasn't so dim that he couldn't even take this pathetically obvious hint.

"Ichi…go?"

Rukia watched as Ichigo's spine stiffened. His eyes were straight on hers and she watched as he bit his lip and swallowed… _hard._

"_Thank you,_" he whispered in a voice so low it was hardly audible.

Rukia smiled softly at him, a gentle 'you're welcome' to ease him for the moment. As quickly as she could, Rukia steeled her face so it looked like she was terribly irritated and bored. She made it so that… well, she made her face look the way it used to look before _him_. She watched him turn slightly around and force a smile onto his face. "Yuzu… I—I, ah, didn't know you were here."

Rukia's expression remained impassive as the small woman bounded up to their table and gaped wide-eyed at the pair. Ichigo was sitting and squirming as though he were suffering from some of the worst hemmeroids on the planet and Rukia was placed stiffly in her chair, hands out in plain view, her jaw clenched, and her mouth set in a distasteful line.

"Ichigo!" She gasped, quickly jumping over to him and wrapping her arms around his neck. Rukia had to make sure to remain impassive at this rather cute display of sibling affection. It was rather nice to think of Ichigo as an older brother. Well, the kind of older brother that actually cared about more than maintaining family pride.

Rukia fought the desire to roll her eyes. She shouldn't be thinking things like that about her brother. He was, after all, on the mend from being shot. Twice. He deserved her support, not her degradation.

"And Rukia's here too!" Yuzu squealed, detaching herself from her brother and surging to wrap her arms around the older woman sitting across from him.

Her spine straightened immediately and she kept her hands directly at her sides.

"Ah, hello… Yuzu." She said as formally as she could.

The young woman released her but kept her hands on Rukia's shoulder. Rukia's sapphire eyes blinked a few times as Yuzu's honeyed gaze searched her impassive face. A warm smile was present and dimples shown on her apple cheeks as she grinned.

"Rukia… you're here with Ichigo." She turned to her brother and raised an eyebrow. "Is this a date?"

"Of course not!" Ichigo snapped angrily.

Rukia tried not to allow the comment to place a small bruise inside of her chest.

But it did.

Yuzu had just opened her mouth to argue—with her cute, arguing face of hers—when Rukia slowly shifted her shoulders and detached the young woman's hands.

"I asked Kurosaki to come here," she said briskly—and that was half true at least. "I needed to talk to him about the final touches we were going to put on the merger papers. As I was just explaining, the fourth quarter might become a problem in the growing recession."

"Exactly," Ichigo muttered, his eyes flickered towards Rukia and then to his sister. "What she said." He immediately narrowed his gaze and set his jaw. "Forget about me, what are _you_ doing here Yuzu?"

The young woman's cheeks colored instantly and Rukia immediately knew that she was hiding something. Rukia blinked and cocked her head to the side, looking at her almost… scientifically. She doubted she'd ever seen anyone blush that quickly.

"Oh… _me_?" Yuzu laughed nervously while her brother eyed her skeptically. "I'm just here to eat."

"By yourself?" Ichigo pointed out, his eagle eyes sweeping the restaurant slowly. "Then maybe you should join us."

Yuzu's face became pinker as she twisted her hands in front of her. "Well, see… I would Ichigo… but I—"

Suddenly, a rough and brash voice interrupted her. "Zuzu, our table's over here. Why are you… oh shi—"

"Jinta!" She hissed, her pretty face furrowing in a strange likeness of her older brother, "Don't swear!"

Rukia swiftly looked to Ichigo and found his face looking murderously lethal.

_Oh this ought to be interesting._

"You're. On. A. Date."

The fragmented sentence was muttered as though they were laced with poison deadly enough to take down an elephant in point two seconds.

Yuzu blinked twice and the man beside her—Jinta, apparently—clamped his mouth shut. Rukia sat back in her seat and looked to and from the couple standing in front of her and her lover in the seat across from her. The boy didn't look that bad… a bit rough around the edges maybe, what with his hair the same shade as Renji's and his eyes holding the same arrogance of Ichigo's. But he didn't look _terrible_. And judging by the way he allowed a small smile to come on his face whenever he looked at Yuzu, he didn't seem like too bad of a guy. Hell, he'd even called her by a cutesy nickname in a public place.

That made him alright in Rukia's book.

"Y—Yeah," she sputtered, "But so are _you_!"

"I am not!" He snapped back.

"You are so!"

"Am not!"

"Are so!"

"Am—" Ichigo growled and shoved his hand against his face. "I am not going to reduce myself to acting like I'm in the second grade, Yuzu Kurosaki."

"Fine," she snapped and her hand immediately came out to wrap around Jinta's. His face colored but he didn't shove it away. Rukia's stomach dropped when she realized that if she had ever done that to Ichigo he'd probably drop her hand like it was burning.

Yuzu glared at him. "Then we'll just go and eat by our_selves_ without any interruptions from _you_. We'll leave you and Rukia alone. And… and…" she paused for a moment, after which her face lit up with sudden and intense inspiration. Her cute, puffy lips pulled back against her white teeth and—for the first time that Rukia had ever seen—Yuzu Kurosaki looked a bit, well… _evil_. "I'll tell _Dad_!"

Rukia looked quickly back to Ichigo's face. Her mind instantly flashed back to the scant time she had spent with Isshin Kurosaki. Christ, if that crazy bastard knew about this meeting… this restaurant… Rukia shuddered at the very thought. She didn't want another 'pregnancy' interrogation.

But Ichigo didn't panic like she thought he would. She raised an eyebrow as she watched him lean back in his seat, cross his arms, and smirk like he had never smirked before. It was almost… well, okay, it _was_ evil.

"Well sister _dearest_," he murmured in a low and malicious voice, "He wants _me_ to start producing the grandkids. He doesn't want either of his precious daughters to get married until you two are fifty." He grinned again and shook his head. "I think his reaction to _you_ being on a date will be far worse than his reaction to _me_ being on a date."

Rukia's heart leaped into her throat and she had to clench her hands on the table in order to keep her reaction inside. She shot Ichigo an intense glare and quickly jerked her head back and forth between the two. He glanced over at Rukia, saw her intense glower, and blinked twice, clearly not understanding. After a moment, his eyes snapped up to his sister and they widened when he realized that she was grinning.

"Idiot," Rukia muttered, rubbing her nose in agitation.

"Not that this is a date!" He snapped. "And neither is what you're on." He pointed to Jinta and gave him one of the hardest glares Rukia had ever seen him give anyone.

"Oh come off it." Yuzu snorted. She shook her head and grasped at Jinta's hand. "We're going to eat. We'll see you guys later." She turned to Rukia and lifted her nose in the air. "It was good to see you, Rukia." Her eyes glittered a bit and she raised an eyebrow. "Maybe you should come to our Sunday picnic Rukia. I know I'd enjoy it. Karin wouldn't mind. Dad will be ecstatic. And, well, I know that Ichigo would just _love_ for you to come."

"I would not!" He shouted, slamming his hand down onto the table. Rukia had to fight not to look away from him. Because really, she couldn't pretend that she didn't know him. She'd almost made out with him a few minutes ago. In public!

She slapped a hand to her forehead. _What the hell has happened to you Rukia Kuchiki?_

"See you on Sunday Rukia," Yuzu sniffed into the air. "I'll be expecting you." She shot Ichigo a hard look and glowered, "And so will Karin and Dad."

Without another word she turned around and tugged Jinta off to another corner of the restaurant, leaving Ichigo steaming in his seat. He glared in their direction and Rukia watched as he clenched his jaw hard.

She simply sat in her seat and looked casually at her lover. His face was turning red in increasing shades, his eyes were flashing a rather interesting shade of onyx, and his lips were twitching.

It was almost funny.

Rukia bit her lips and tried to keep from laughing.

"So…" she said, leaning over the table and moving her hands up to link them under her chin, "Do you know that kid?"

Ichigo's hard eyes came up to Rukia's and she simply smiled. He nodded once and then indicated towards the table where Yuzu and Jinta were currently sitting.

"He's one of Urahara's adopted kids." Ichigo muttered, "He's not that bad…"

Rukia waited for the 'but.'

"But," Ichigo seethed, not daring to disappoint, "He curses too much, he has no career goals other than becoming a professional baseball player, and his hair is _red_."

Rukia raised one eyebrow, "What, exactly, is wrong with red hair?"

Ichigo gulped down his waiting cup of coffee and Rukia watched as he winced at the temperature. "Red hair… reminds me of that circus freak of a friend you have."

Rukia couldn't help but allow her heart to skip in her chest at the sound of his angered voice. Her cheeks turned an interesting shade of pink as she tried to avert her eyes. She needed to keep her expression solid. She couldn't show any weakness when his sister was sitting only a few tables away. Rukia looked to the side and realized that Yuzu was staring at the two of them over the top of her menu. Rukia smirked, raised her hand a bit a waved. Ichigo jerked his head in her direction and glared while Yuzu sneakily hid her head behind the bulbous waitress taking their orders.

"Damn… siblings…" Ichigo muttered, waving for another cup of coffee.

"At least your siblings like you," Rukia muttered, clearing her throat and nodding towards the exit. "We can always leave if you want."

Her stomach shriveled at her words and she had to bite her lip not to say anything else.

If they left now Ichigo would surely drop her off at her apartment and go home in a _mood_. She didn't want him to do that. She wanted to eat dinner with him here, go back to her apartment, and have several rounds of scintillating, sweet, and sweaty sex.

Rukia fought a blush from wrapping around her face and swallowed hard. Hell, she even wanted to sleep curled up next to him again… with his arm around her waist, his chest on her back, his leg thrown over hers.

"No…" Ichigo muttered. "If she sees us leave I'd never hear the end of it."

"_I'd never hear the end of it."_

Rukia's stomach continued to shrivel as the same plump waitress came up to them and asked for their orders.

"Turkey club," Rukia said in a soft voice.

"Same," Ichigo muttered, his eyes fixated on Yuzu and her date.

Rukia rolled her eyes and sighed. "Ichigo." She snapped and his eyes immediately shot back to hers. Her gaze was earnest as she spoke, "Just forget about her. If you don't acknowledge her she won't acknowledge you."

Ichigo smirked, "Old Kuchiki mind-trick?"

She shrugged, "It's how I tried to ignore you at first."

"But that didn't work, did it?" He grinned and Rukia saw a spark of his cocky, egotistical, bastardly self showing through.

"Of course not," she answered breezily, flipping her hair behind her shoulder, "I mean, after all, how could I ignore you after you half-fucked me in an elevator?"

"How could I ignore you when your ass is so tight and your pussy is so hot?" He asked as his mouth spread into a grin.

"So what we're saying," Rukia continued as though her stomach wasn't twisting at such a public display of dirty sex talk, "Is that it is simple because we both couldn't ignore each other that we got ourselves into this situation?"

Ichigo shook his head, "No… I'd have to say it was about eighty percent on you and _maybe _twenty percent on me."

She scoffed and pelted a pepper shaker at his head.

"Hey!" He half-shouted, half-laughed. She watched as he inhaled sharply and immediately let loose a tremendous sneeze.

Laughter bubbled inside of her stomach and escaped her throat before she could reign it back in.

"Sh—ut up-p-p-achoo!" Ichigo shouted, sneezing three more times before finally wiping the rest of the pepper off of his face.

"Christ woman," he scowled—even though Rukia could detect a bit of laughter in his expression, "Just when I think I have you figured out… or_ tamed_… you pull some stunt like that!"

"It was no stunt," Rukia sighed as she leaned back and allowed the woman to put her turkey sandwich in front of her, "I merely had a rather abrupt hand spasm and knocked the pepper into your face."

Ichigo sneezed once again and brushed even more pepper out of his hair. Rukia thought about sticking out her plate and catching it for her food but after a moment realized that it would be nothing more than glorified dandruff.

"Besides," she added, "You were the one who most definitely had the eighty percent. I merely acquiesced to your rather insistent demands." She shrugged, "After an appropriate time of refusal, of course."

"Please," he retaliated, digging into his own sandwich. "It was you who came to me the first two times."

"Let's not get into semantics." Rukia said, her own mouth filled with delicious food. "How about we compromise and say that it's a fifty fifty thing?"

"Absolutely not."

Another scoop of pepper made its way into Ichigo's eyes.

"Ack! Fine! Bitch!"

Rukia grinned, "Oh come on now, don't cry Ichigo. Thought you were more of a man than that."

"I'll show you man," Ichigo snarled at her, "Later tonight I'm knocking you unconscious again."

Rukia just smiled and took another bite of her sandwich.

_I certainly hope so._

*~*~*

Ichigo stepped outside of the warm restaurant door and instantly felt a cold blast of air shove its way under his skin.

"Shit!" He cursed as he wrapped his jacket tightly around his body. He instantly stuck his hands under his arms and frowned as an even colder draft snaked around his neck. If that wasn't bad enough, pregnant snowflakes were falling from the sky at an alarming rate. Already the street was covered by about an inch of the powdery substance. Ichigo crunched a bit of it under his shoe and shrugged when he realized it was packing snow. At least driving in this crap wouldn't be as hard as driving in fluffy powder.

"Damn Rukia," he muttered, hearing the door open behind him, "Be careful. It's snowing pretty—"

At that exact moment Rukia did one of the most un-Rukia-like things he had ever witnessed before. It was even more un-Rukia-like then her taking off her shirt at the park that day. It was even more un-Rukia-like then having desk sex during the middle of the day. It was even more un-Rukia-like then leaving work early.

"_SNOW!_"

She immediately shot past him and launched herself at his car. Her body was stopped by her hands but Ichigo didn't even yell at her—damn girl could have put a ding in the car with how fast she'd been going—before she was scooping snow up in her hands and patting it into a ball.

_Oh no._

Two seconds later a ball of wet, icy, and very _cold_ snow hit him squarely in the face.

Ichigo stood frozen as Rukia laughed like a child in the middle of the street. Her busy hands were already preparing another snowball as she giggled helplessly. Passers-by watched them curiously and shook their heads as Rukia aimed the second ball.

Ichigo shot from his position and dodged the oncoming ball, not willing to just sit around and be pelted with snowballs. Before he knew what he was doing his hands were diving into the snow and he was shaping himself a very firm ball of white fluff. "Payback time." He growled as he hurled it in her direction.

His ball missed.

Damn midget was fast.

Another ball hit him on the back of his head and Rukia laughed from behind him.

"I used to whip Renji's ass at snowball fights every year." She taunted him, juggling three premade snowballs—when did she even have time to make those?—in her hands. "You'll never beat me."

A snowball hit her square in the face.

Ichigo grinned and tossed one ball up and down.

Rukia slowly wiped the remnants away from her face and raised one deadly eyebrow. "This means _war_."

"Winner gets to pick the position?" Ichigo proposed, getting even more stares from people passing them.

Rukia grinned. "Hope you won't mind being my bitch."

Ichigo smirked. "Hope you won't mind being tied up."

Rukia just smiled. Ichigo knew that whether or not he won they'd both have an extremely good time afterwards.

*~*~*

Yuzu Kurosaki stared wide-eyed as she watched her brother engage in a snowball fight right in the middle of a public sidewalk.

"Zuzu…" Jinta sighed from beside her, "Come on, we've been here for twenty minutes already."

"Shh!" She squeaked. "My brother might see us!"

Jinta observed the fight through the window. "He looks pretty preoccupied."

"Exactly!" She whisper-screamed. "I don't think I've seen my brother get into a snowball fight since he was… since he was… well, since before Mom died."

"Damn," Jinta mumbled, "Guy must be in love."

Yuzu grinned happily and turned to face her boyfriend. "My thinking _exactly_."

Jinta raised an eyebrow and crossed his arms. "What do you have up your sleeve, Zu?"

"Oh nothing," Yuzu giggled, secretly loving the fact that he called her 'Zu' and 'Zuzu.' "I was just thinking how nice it would be to see Rukia at our house for Christmas."

"That should be entertaining."

"You're coming too."

"Aw shi—"

"Don't swear!"

"Shitake mushrooms," he muttered, amending his statement quickly. "I was going to say shitake mushroom, Zu. Don't you need some of them for that dish you want to make?"

She gave him an exasperated look and pressed a kiss to his cheek. "Come on," she motioned to the door, "I don't really think they'll notice. Besides, I need to think of what I'm going to say to get little miss Rukia invited to our Christmas dinner." She shrugged one shoulder, "It shouldn't be too hard… considering my dad loves her."

Jinta smiled and threw his arm over his girlfriend's shoulder. She grasped his dangling hand and smiled. "You're sneaky," he said, "I knew I liked you."

"I like you too." She said as they discretely exited the restaurant.

In the background, she heard her brother laugh as he pelted Rukia with another snowball.

Yuzu smiled as she walked.

**(A/N: I decided to update this chapter a little bit earlier than normal because, as of last night, I got past page seven hundred of this particular fanfiction. I know… I told my mother and she asked me 'I thought you said it was only going to be about four hundred pages?' Um yeah. I'd **_**originally**_** planned that but… hey, plans change.**

**So, as celebration for reaching page seven hundred I decided to update. Actually, I only have about sixty more pages to go before I write the big epilogue**_**.**_** No need to worry though, you guys still have over one hundred and fifty pages left to read before you get to page seven hundred yourselves. =D**

**Also, keep in mind I beta my own work. Sometimes things slip past.**

**OH! I almost forgot! Thank you to everyone who has ever reviewed for this story. I can't believe I have over one thousand reviews. I honestly never thought I'd ever get that many. It's truly an honor.**

**Wow, I'm rambling on a bit. Anyway, I hope you enjoy this chapter and PLEASE DON'T FORGET TO REVIEW!!!)**


	35. Chapter 34

**Disclaimer: I do not own Bleach or any Bleach affiliates.**

_**Odalisque**_

**Chapter 34**

"Are you sure?" Rukia asked dubiously as she and Ichigo trudged up the steep hill, their feet sloshing in the fresh snow. She was slightly out of breath seeing as how the foot of icy powder kept her legs working hard. "I mean, you're sister could have kept the restaurant thing a secret. I don't have to come with you."

_Even though I want to, _she added on a bit wistfully. She looked up at the crest of the hill and saw a small picnic table laden with… holy crap, was that a Bunsen burner? A coffee pot? A miniature grill?

She also saw the three individuals all sitting on one side of the picnic table. Their bodies were arranged from tallest to shortest. Each one of them had their hands folded placidly on the table and each individual also happened to be sporting rather sadistic grins on their wickedly pleased features.

"Oh my," Rukia whispered.

"Think of it this way," Ichigo huffed as he shied a foot or two away from her. "If Yuzu did tell them and you didn't show, I'd be face down in the snow with my father over me, screaming like a hysterical woman."

Rukia punched him in the side for that.

"But still," Ichigo grunted painfully, "If she didn't tell them and you came anyway, I'm my dads' new favorite offspring."

"So I'm your insurance." Rukia stated dryly as they came within three yards of the picnic table.

"Pretty much." He sighed and turned to his family. "Hey Dad, Karin… Yu_zu_." His second sister's name was growled but she simply smiled happily.

"RUKIA!" Isshin screamed, losing his previous composure and leaping across the table. Rukia yelped as the squealing, two hundred pound, mass of a man came leaping over the table and straight at her. Swiftly, she jerked to the right and crashed directly into Ichigo, whose hands instinctively came out to catch her. Isshin fell into the snow with a heavy thud—_how_ it could be heavy in the snow, Rukia had yet to find out—but instead of staying down he jerked around and pointed an accusing finger at his son, who still had a stunned Rukia in his arms.

"Aha! I _knew_ it!" He leapt to his feet and began doing erratic jumping jacks. "I knew it, I knew it, I _knew_ it!" His finger shot out and landed dangerously close to Rukia's nose. Her eyes crossed and she gaped slightly. "You two are so in love!"

From the table, Yuzu squealed in delight, "See Dad! Wasn't I right?"

"You sure were, Yuzu!" He screamed and jumped over to her to give her a high five.

Rukia stood dumbly in Ichigo's warm arms. Stunned beyond belief, she just kept still, silently aware that her subconscious was truly enjoying being held by Ichigo somewhere other than in the bedroom.

Her mind began screaming a warning.

She shook herself mentally and slowly detached herself from Ichigo's arms. He blinked twice and looked down at her. She looked up at him.

"Oh," he muttered, releasing her kept elbows and taking two steps away. "Sorry about that."

"It's alright," she whispered, her eyes fighting not to lean towards the ground while her cheeks engaged in their own private battle to remain pale.

"Oh! What a tender display of affection!" Isshin sobbed from his perch on the table. "Finally, I'll be able to have the grandchildren I've always wanted!"

"Shut up old man!" Ichigo barked and he reached out to grab Rukia's hand. "Come on, let's sit down."

"Yes, Ichigo!" Isshin bawled again, "Touch her any way you wish. I mean, I know you must be proper what with your sisters being in the area and all…"

Ichigo's fist went into his father's face while Rukia took a delicate seat on the picnic table bench. It was cold but that was to be expected. Instantly, a plate of warm food was in front of her, along with a steaming mug of hot chocolate. Rukia looked up and smiled at Yuzu, who giggled and gave a similar plate to her brother.

"This looks delicious Yuzu, thank you." Rukia said as politely as she could.

Ichigo muttered angrily as he took a bite of his food. Rukia raised an eyebrow at him and then leaned back to look beyond his body. She choked lightly when she saw his father bleeding quietly into the snow.

"It's only a nosebleed," Karin stated and Rukia shot her head up, staring at the younger woman in bewilderment. "Don't worry about it. He'll be back tormenting you in a second."

Yuzu nodded enthusiastically, "He will!"

"Okay…"

"Yes my lovely third daughter," Isshin crooned, suddenly appearing to the side, blood smeared over the entire bottom half of his face. "Have now fear! I am perfectly fine!"

"Daddy please," Yuzu whispered frantically, bits of pink staining her cheeks, "No blood at breakfast."

"Oh, right." Isshin took a napkin and wiped away the remnants of red ooze. Rukia turned dutifully back to her food and wondered how Ichigo had been spawned from such a strange man.

_His mother,_ she thought as she delightfully sipped the wonderful hot chocolate. Ichigo ate sullenly beside her and kept his eyes on his father as he cleaned himself. Rukia guessed that having Isshin spout blood was a normal occurrence in the Kurosaki household.

"So, Rukia," Isshin said, plopping down directly opposite from her at the table, "Are you pregnant yet?"

And there went her hot chocolate.

"We're leaving," Ichigo growled, rising from the table.

"Sit!" Isshin commanded, his voice suddenly booming around the entire park. Even Rukia jumped a bit at the absolute power that Ichigo's father exuded with only his voice. She looked up at him and raised her eyebrows when she saw his face looking completely and utterly serious. She didn't think she'd ever seen him like that before.

_Not that you've seen him many times dumbass,_ her mind chided her. She swallowed the buttery croissant she was eating and stared pointedly into the distance, mimicking the actions of Ichigo's sister, Karin.

"If you're going to keep going in that vein old man we're not going to be staying here much longer," Ichigo growled angrily, his hand clenching and unclenching the table.

"You know I can still whoop you boy," Isshin said, his voice quiet and lethal, not at all the voice Rukia had heard him use before.

"Shove it Dad," he snarled, "No more questions like that. Rukia and I are _friends_. Nothing more than that."

"And yet a few months ago you were only business partners," Karin chimed in using a tone as bored as all get out. She turned to smirk at her brother, "Just think of what you could be next month."

_We're already there kid,_ Rukia thought as she polished off her pastry and brushed the crumbs from her hands.

"Just remember your friggin manners old man." Ichigo growled and Rukia thought that if he had been of the canine variety, his hackles would have been raised.

Her mind cringed at the association. If he had been canine in nature it would have been rather sick to be sleeping with him.

"Let's just change the subject!" Yuzu laughed a bit nervously. Rukia couldn't blame her, the tension from her father and her brother was nearly palpable. Hell, even she was getting a bit uncomfortable with the testosterone that was being exhibited.

Isshin was the one to snap first. His serious face became the same one of clownish happiness that it had been only a few moments ago. He grinned like a fool and turned to his daughters. "Excellent idea Yuzu!"

"Fine," Ichigo interjected vehemently.

Isshin sat down at the table and giggled like a schoolgirl. "So Rukia," he placed his hands under his chin and batted his eyelashes. "What are you doing for the holidays? Christmas is only a few days away you know."

Rukia's eyes blinked twice and let out a surprised, "Oh."

That was right, Christmas _was_ only a few days away. Yet if truth be told she hadn't thought anything about it. No one in the Kuchiki family actually bothered to celebrate the holidays. She couldn't even remember having an actual Christmas celebration when Hisana had been _alive_. To her, December twenty fifth was just another day of the year.

"Ah," Rukia frowned and shrugged, "I guess I'll just stay home."

"You won't be with your family?" Karin asked in the same bored tone.

She shook her head, "No… he just got out of the hospital so he went back to his house about fifty miles away from Karakura. I don't think I'll really celebrate Christmas. Although it's no big deal; I've never really done anything for the holidays."

The pause that followed seemed to freeze everything in the park.

"NEVER DONE ANYTHING FOR THE HOLIDAYS!?"

Rukia clapped her hands over her ears and cringed in her seat. Ichigo flinched viciously beside her and even Karin and Yuzu shifted about two feet away from their father. After a moment of testing her ears to see if her eardrums had shattered, Rukia peeked up from under her eyelashes.

Isshin's face was filled with tears and his lips were pouting dramatically.

"N-no?" Rukia hazarded. She gulped and looked silently over at Ichigo. His gaze was one of disgust and a bit of wariness. His eyes flickered over to hers and then back to his father quickly.

"Then you must come over to our house!" Yuzu squealed. Her hands shot out to the top of the table and she grasped Rukia's bare hands in her own gloved ones. "We already have a tree up and you can come and have dinner with us!"

"Yes!" Isshin blubbered, "You must come to our house to celebrate."

"I wouldn't want to intrude," Rukia said quickly, her hands still imprisoned in Yuzu's. "Really, it's no big deal."

"It is a big deal," Karin said moodily, "Please don't make Yuzu and Dad start crying."

"But—"

"No, it's alright."

Rukia's spine stiffened just a bit as Ichigo's voice reached her from the scant feet that were separating them. She turned her head towards him and saw him giving her a rueful smile that made her heart twitch.

He nodded and said, "Seriously, Yuzu always makes enough food to serve a small army and… if you're not doing anything…"

Rukia swallowed heavily and looked him straight in the eye. His honeyed amber gaze held nothing but intense sincerity. But was this just a ploy to get his family to think that they were just friends? Honestly, if Ichigo desperately wanted to hide the fact that they were bed-buddies wouldn't he want to push her away? He probably just wanted to try and keep things out from under his father's radar.

_Or… maybe he just wants me there._

_Talk about a long shot._

She smiled and nodded twice before turning back to his family. "I think I'd like that."

Isshin jumped into the air whooping, Yuzu giggled happily, and Karin told them not to make out under the mistletoe. The last statement received a glare from Ichigo.

"Then it's settled," Isshin crooned, "Ichigo, you will pick up your future wife at four on Christmas so she can come and sit and have dinner with us."

"She's not my future wife." Ichigo growled angrily.

"Yes, yes, yes…" he waved his hand, "I meant the mother of your future children."

Isshin was once again face down in the snow, bleeding from his already damaged nose.

"Shove it Dad."

*~*~*

Rukia's mind hazed over like the snowflakes constantly falling around her as she walked down the already snow-laden streets. Her buzzing brain was, once again, wearing itself out by going in mindless circles of questions. No end was, of course, in sight but her conscious didn't seem too bothered by the situation. She fidgeted a bit with the buttons on her coat and continued walking. One foot went in front of the other, mindful of nothing but her troubling thoughts.

_Ichigo._

She sighed and pressed a hand to her face while brushing a piece of hair out of her eyes. The wind picked up and she groaned when she was forced to pull her hat down even further onto her head.

Inside of her chest, her heart throbbed dully and her stomach ached with something that could be considered nerves. Okay, they couldn't be considered nerves because she _knew_ they were nerves.

She bit her lip as she pulled her scattered thoughts back to the one of the many questions she had floating through her mind.

_Do I get him anything?_

A trivial thing to be sure but still, it had been bugging Rukia for nearly three days straight. Her dinner with the Kurosaki's was tomorrow and she still had no idea if she was supposed to bring something. Did she have to get them gifts? Should she bring over a few bottles of wine? What about Ichigo? Did she get him anything? They were, after all rather… _close_.

She pressed a hand to her forehead and groaned. But what if he hadn't gotten her anything in return? She would look pretentious and bratty if she showed up with a gift for him when he didn't have one for her. Besides, was theirs the type of relationship where gift-giving was actually _acceptable_?

She let out a half-strangled shout and pulled her mouth into a grimace. Hell if she knew.

Rukia growled and tossed her head to the side. As she moved she passed a cluster of boutique shops. After glancing into three separate shop windows her feet screeched to an immediate halt and her mouth fell open. She twisted her head to the window of one particular building.

Her lips curled into a grin and she instantly forgot about her inner conflict. She didn't care anymore. So what if Ichigo thought she was being pretentious by getting him a gift?

She had to get this for him. She _wanted_ to get this for him.

Rukia pushed her way into the shop with a smile on her face.

*~*~*

Ichigo sat in his car, fiddling with the stereo, while waiting for Rukia to come down from her apartment building. So far he had listened to four jazz songs, one alternative, and two heavy metal. He quirked his eyebrow in irritation and growled. The station changed again as he leaned back in his chair and glanced at the clock on his dashboard. It now read _4:26_.

"Damn it woman," he muttered, fighting the ever growing urge to honk his horn. Christ already knew his dad had called him at least four times, wondering where the hell his "future wife" was and why they weren't home already.

That was one of the disadvantages about talking to his father over the phone. When he said shit like that Ichigo just couldn't punch him in the face like he wanted.

His car tuned the radio to a rap song and he changed it. Right now he didn't care to listen to men pontificate about 'shorty's' and 'ho's' and how much 'pussy' they were stealing from other men.

He looked up at the clock again. _4:30._

Growling, he was nearly ready to bang his head down on the steering wheel when the passenger side door opened with a click.

"Sorry, sorry, sorry, sorry, sorry…" Rukia said breathlessly as she slid into her seat, purse in one hand and a large bag in the other.

"Damn woman, it's about friggin time!" He snarled.

"I said I was sorry," she returned smartly, shutting the door with another click and sliding a loose piece of hair out of her face. "I couldn't find something to put this in." She held up the bag in her hand and swallowed. "And I didn't want to just go to your house without bringing anything."

He turned the engine of his car on and listened to the happy purr of the happy machine. He shifted gears and waited to be able to pull out onto the snow-laden road. "What's in that bag anyway?"

She shrugged. "Just some champagne."

"Good god," he huffed, "You actually want to see my father when he gets drunk, don't you?"

"I have every confidence that you'll end up punching him out." She retorted dryly.

"Yeah well, I just hope that he doesn't start shoving fertility pills down your throat."

Rukia just shook her head and sighed, falling back into the seat gently.

Ichigo's eyes, which were mostly focused on the road ahead of him, took the chance to flicker over to the woman sitting in his passenger seat. He grinned when he saw the small black dress she was currently wearing. The heavy coat which was supposed to hide it from his view had slipped to the side, revealing yards of gossamer fabric that looked liquid to the touch. By the looks of things it was an empire waist dress with two spaghetti straps leading up past her shoulders and… did they cross at the back?

_Hot damn… we might just have to have our own Christmas party later._

"Eyes on the road asshole."

Her voice jerked him back to reality and he looked quickly at the snowy road. His foot immediately went to the brake and his Benz careened to halt only inches behind a classic mom-mobile.

He whipped his head around and glared, "Thanks for warning me!"

Rukia simply smirked, "I did warn you. You just weren't paying attention. Although, honestly," she gave him a coy grin and flipped a piece of hair behind her shoulder, "When you're staring at me, how could I blame you?" Her haughty, actress-inspired laugh made Ichigo's insides cringe.

"Inflate your head much?" He muttered.

"Oh bite me."

"Gladly, but later, when we're in private."

"Perv."

"I'm not the one who—"

"Eyes on the friggin road!"

"Shit!"

"Incompetent bastard."

"Nosy bitch."

"Well a very Merry Christmas to you too asshole."

He sullenly growled as he pulled onto the familiar street where his father lived. The gleaming neon lights gave the house away immediately and Ichigo cringed as he pulled his stylish black Benz to the front of the tackiest house on the entire block. There was even an entire Santa Claus and Reindeer plastic statue collection on the top of their roof. He bet even shuttle astronauts could see their house.

Rukia's eyes became wide as she stared out the window. "Oh… wow."

"Yeah." He muttered in a surly tone.

"Well at least it's festive," she chimed in, "I mean, there's something to say about all those lights. I mean, if you squint it kind of looks like a galaxy threw up or something… and I must say this much tackiness could be considered a form of modernist art."

"Bite me," Ichigo growled as he pulled himself out of the car.

Rukia emerged from her side as well, decorative bag in tow, she sent him a smirk over the top of the car and grinned. "Gladly," she mimicked him, "But later, when we're alone."

Ichigo's arm brushed against hers as he met her on the opposite side of the car. His mouth curled into a smirk as he nudged her, "Does this mean I get to call you a perv now?"

"Of course not," Rukia said airily, brushing her loose hair away.

"And why is that?"

He and Rukia stepped up to the door and they both paused before it. She turned her face up to his and, in the glow of the holiday lights, Ichigo took a moment to revel in just how perfect her face was. Her eyes were softly outlined, bringing their liquid beauty out in full force, her lips were a shimmering shade of pink that he just ached to taste, and her cheeks were rosy enough that he had to fight to keep his hand from her skin.

Damn she was beautiful.

"You cannot call me a perv," Rukia told him quietly while leaning in inch by inch, "Because I intend to comply completely with your request."

"You do?"

"Oh yes," she said softly. "Besides…" she turned to the door and smirked up at him coyly, "I bought myself handcuffs as a gift this year."

Ichigo blanched and she grinned, "Who else am I going to use them with?"

The frantic shout of "_No one!_" nearly had the chance to erupt from behind his lips. They would have to, had his younger sister not flung open the front door at that precise moment.

"Ichigo! Rukia!" Yuzu squealed in delight, her small body clad in a homey apron that made her look like she just stepped out of a fifties television sitcom, "I'm so glad you're both here!"

"I'm sorry we're late Yuzu," Rukia began immediately before Ichigo would get a word in edgewise, "But I kept the two of us up, I was looking for something to put my, ah, contribution in."

Yuzu's pretty face was scrunched as she frowned, "Contribution?"

Rukia simply held up the bag.

The happy light shining from Yuzu's eyes could have rivaled the plastic reindeer on the roof.

"Oh! Thank you Rukia!" She squealed as she accepted the bag, "But you know you didn't have to bring anything. We have everything already set up! Oh, I can't wait for you to try my ham, I made a different recipe this year than I usually do so I'm not sure how it turned out—"

"I'm sure it's perfect Yuzu," Ichigo cut in quickly, his hands stuffed into his pockets. "But if you don't mind we'd like to get inside right now. It's twelve below out here."

Yuzu's mouth dropped and she quickly stepped aside, "I'm so sorry Ichigo. I didn't mean to—"

"It's alright Yuzu," he said, eager to stop the endless flow of guilt that was now coming from his sister. Sometimes the girl could act like some sort of emotion faucet. "We were just cold is all."

"Yes Yuzu," Rukia reassured happily, "Everything's fine. Don't worry about it."

Ichigo had just gotten the door closed behind them when a crash resonated from the kitchen. Beside him, Rukia jumped and pressed a small hand over her heart. Yuzu, who had not so much as flinched, furrowed her brow and rushed into the kitchen, muttering something along the lines of 'Dad had better not make the potatoes red.' Meanwhile Ichigo, who was far too used to occurrences like this, simply sighed and wondered how much blood was now oozing from his father's body.

"You alright Dad?" He boorishly called into the kitchen, not truly worried at all. He was, instead, staring at Rukia, his attention rather voraciously focused on her. Well, her and her tiny feet anyway. Damn she looked good in stilettos. What with that strappy little buckle and the crisscrossing black leather. He could have whistled. Throw in a thong and a pair of handcuffs and they'd be good to go.

"Did I hear the sweet, dulcet, tones of my future daughter-in-law?" A weak shriek echoed from the other side of the house.

"If by that you mean is my business partner here to have a cordial family dinner with us?" Ichigo snapped back, "Then yes." He turned to Rukia and sighed in exasperation. "Here, let me get your coat."

"I can get it myself," she growled but he ignored her. Grinning smugly he came to stand in front of her, his body only inches away, and casually began to slide her coat off of her shoulders, making sure that his thumbs came into contact with her delicate skin as he stripped it away.

He saw her shiver slightly and his grin widened as he took another half-step forward. Now his breath was caressing the side of her neck. He could see the goose-bumps that were currently coating her ivory flesh. He grinned, a few more inches downward and he'd be able to feel that beautiful neck under his rather hungry mouth.

Yet instead he sighed, and, going against his rather insistent sexual judgment, he pulled himself to the side and gently brought the coat off of her limp arms. He brought it to a closet and placed it on a hanger before shutting the door.

He smirked as he turned to Rukia. His eyes went to her flushed face and down to her reddening neck. His lips pulled further back when he noticed the two delicate protrusions in the frontal area of her dress.

"Disregarding bras today, are we my dear?" He murmured smugly into her ear.

He delighted in listening to her gasp as she took a quick glance down and instantly brought her arms up to cross over her chest. Her glare shot daggers into his eyes as she took two quick steps forward.

"I'll have you know that you're going _first_ with the handcuffs."

He chuckled lightly, "Says the woman who's two feet shorter than me and one hundred pounds lighter than me." He shook his head smugly. "I don't think so." He reached out and ruffled her silky hair for a moment before her hand slapped him away.

"Oh don't worry," she snapped back smartly, patting her hair back down in the process. "The handcuffs were only part of the deal I got at the store."

He raised an eyebrow but didn't remove the smug expression from his face, "What was the other half?"

This time it was Rukia who grinned. Only hers wasn't teasing… it was wicked. "A taser. Twenty thousand volts, I might add. On sale for half price when I bought it with the handcuffs."

She took two steps towards him and slowly rose on her tip toes. Her deliciously red mouth was right next to his ear as she whispered, "You'd be surprised what you can find in sex stores these days."

With that she turned towards the kitchen with hot and lusty steps, her hips swinging back and forth like a pendulum. Ichigo was left rooted in his spot, staring after her. Images of his body being zapped with a taser while Rukia stood mercilessly over him… he shuddered. While it was erotic in a twisted way he wouldn't want to be _that_ powerless when it came to the bedroom.

"Fuck," he muttered, following her persistently swinging hips into the kitchen. "She better be joking about that having that taser."

It was then that he noticed Rukia had paused on her way into the living room. He frowned a bit and immediately followed after her, his senses practically milking her aura from the air. He turned the corner and found her standing in the part of the living room that almost directly connected with the kitchen. He frowned and came in as well, wondering what she was…

_Oh._

Rukia's eyes were wide as she stared in awe at the poster of the woman whose smile lit up the entire room. Her perfect mouth was parted slightly and she seemed to blinking as little as possible.

He stepped into the room and came up behind her, his body only a few inches from her back. He knew she must have felt him but at the moment she didn't seem to be paying attention to anything but the poster.

"So…" Ichigo muttered, leaning against the wall. "Rukia, I'd like you to meet the two dimensional representation of my mother."

She turned her face towards him and her eyes lit up with something akin to amusement. Traces of sadness, however, could also be detected. "She's beautiful." She breathed, her voice adequately expressing her awe.

"Yeah," Ichigo nodded, "A real knockout. My dad always like to tell us that he had to beat away twenty suitors a day to keep her to himself."

A ghost of a shadow showed up on her lips. "I don't doubt it."

"Sooner or later you'll see my dad fawn over her," Ichigo said, "Or… well, just this poster. He still talks to her… it."

She turned to him and her smile widened. "I think I'd like to see that."

"You will," Ichigo assured her. He indicated towards the kitchen and she shrugged. Her hips resumed their sensual swinging and her heels resumed making music on the ground.

His heavy steps soon brought him to the kitchen and he raised an exasperated eyebrow as soon as he saw what was going on.

"Dad… how do you _always_ manage to nick an artery?"

"It's a gift," Isshin said, attending to his own wound while Yuzu worriedly hovered around him. Ichigo's eyes flickered to the side and he spied Karin watching the spectacle with a look of grim amusement.

"Have no fear though," he drowsily half-shouted, "I'll be back to normal in three minutes flat!"

"Are you sure Daddy?" Yuzu asked, using a sponge to wipe away some of the blood that had splattered onto the counter. Ichigo sent a sideways look to Rukia and wondered if she'd have enough of an appetite after seeing all of this gore. His mind flew back to the day in the hospital when she had seen Dr. Unohana covered in her brother's blood. He half-shuddered at the thought. That, most definitely, had not been one of the best days of her life. Or his, for that matter. He just hoped that by now she'd overcome her aversion to blood. One saw it a lot around his family.

He sighed and maneuvered around the counters in the kitchen towards the dining table. "Hey Karin," he muttered, "How's life?"

"Peachy," she replied dryly, "Just rainbows, sunshine, unicorns, and lots of little bunnies."

Rukia's head shot towards them at the word 'bunnies.' Ichigo had to fight back a smile.

"I thought as much."

Karin rolled her eyes and continued to watch Isshin do whatever the hell he was doing to stop the bleeding. Ichigo peered over to the side and blearily wondered if his father was actually sewing himself up. He inwardly gagged and hoped that Rukia wasn't seeing any of this.

Instead, he turned to the table and fought not to gape as he witness the mountains of food his sister had prepared for their holiday feast. Damn, when did she have the time to cook all of this? Hams—yes, plural—mashed potatoes, rolls, sweet potatoes, green beans, peas, casseroles, broccoli, and several other dishes he couldn't name were all stuffed onto the tiny table.

"Holy crap Yuzu," he muttered, scratching the back of his head with exasperation, "Think you made enough?"

"You know that Dad likes to go into a food coma at holiday meals," Karin answered for her sister, she turned to Rukia and delivered a wry smile, "And when I mean food coma I actually mean _coma_. He's done it four times already and keeps boasting about a number five."

"Is that safe?" Rukia asked warily.

"Of course not," Ichigo said, coming to stand next to her. His arm brushed up against hers and he had to remind himself not to get too close. Although he would have liked to wrap his arm around her waist—for some reason—he knew that he couldn't do it with his entire family watching. He simply shrugged and turned to her, a small grin on his face, "But the old man still does it. I think he wants to make a world record."

"At least he's goal oriented," Rukia observed auspiciously.

"Yes! I am very goal oriented little Rukia," Isshin screamed, jumping away from the kitchen sink with feverish gusto. He rounded the island and, not two seconds later, enveloped Rukia in one of the most suffocating bear hugs known to man… or beast.

"Dad," Yuzu chirped worriedly, "You're killing her."

A delicate wheeze of agreement came from Rukia.

Isshin jumped back only a second later and happily spun Rukia until she was standing at arms length from him. Ichigo warily looked to make sure her body hadn't been deprived of too much oxygen and made a mental note to injure his father later today.

"Oh Rukia," Isshin crooned, tears glistening in his eyes, "You get more and more beautiful every time I see you." He dashed a tear away and brought it back to Rukia.

Ichigo's eyes bulged out of his head when he saw that his father's appendage, instead of going back to her shoulder like he had assumed, planted itself directly onto her lower abdomen.

"And how are my little grandchildren doing?" He happily asked her stomach.

Ichigo's fist was prepped and ready for action the second the last word left his father's mouth. He had almost cocked it back when Isshin's face became devoid of the same smile it had sported only moments ago. His hands flew away from Rukia and he howled in agony while he desperately tried to clutch his throbbing… shin?

Ichigo watched in amazement as Rukia took a step back and crossed her arms angrily over her chest, "You brought that upon yourself, Mr. Kurosaki. I didn't want to kick you—especially since these are Jimmy Choo's—but I'd rather not have you molesting me about children I am _not _going to have with your son."

Silence fell over the kitchen. Isshin was groaning from a crouched position on the floor, Karin was listlessly sipping her water, Yuzu was standing next to the stove with a steaming bowl of gravy in her hands, and Ichigo was frozen next to Rukia, his fist still raised and ready to strike.

It was Karin who broke the dimming silence first. Slowly, her hands rose and she clapped them together. A dry smile broke out over her face as she applauded the woman standing in the center of her kitchen. "Bravo Rukia, nice to see you have some balls when it comes to the old man."

Rukia smirked at her, "I'll take that as a compliment."

"You should," Yuzu chipped in cheerfully, "Most people just ignore Dad and let him walk all over them. They think he's got mental problems to they just brush it off. I'm glad you've learned when to stand up to him." She grinned at her brother, "Ichigo only started fending him off when he was in middle school."

"Please," Ichigo grunted, lowering his arm, "I was beating that fool up when I was still in the womb."

Karin chortled, "Yeah right, I remember when—"

The sound of sniffling broke through their moment of peace and everyone in the room quickly looked downward. Isshin was still crouched, still holding his knee, and—for some reason—crying.

Rukia was the first to react.

"Mr. Kurosaki," she gasped, quickly bringing herself down to his level and attempting to see into his face, horror written into her own. "I'm so sorry. I didn't mean to kick you that hard. I actually thought I was rather gentle, I kick Ichigo a lot harder than I kicked you and he always seems fine afterwards—"

"Oh yes, except for my bruised bone marrow I'm _perfectly_ fine."

"I really didn't mean to strike you that hard I was just—"

"Rukia!" Isshin screamed joyously, launching himself at her with the strength of a charging bull. She let out a strangled shout as her body connected with the tiled floors of the kitchen. Ichigo shouted at his Dad to let her go but Isshin just hugged the tiny woman tighter and tighter.

"Oh Rukia! Of course I forgive you! You really are the perfect woman for my son! He deserves a thrashing now and again for all the stupid things he does and you're the best woman to give it to him. I'm so happy! You two are such a cute—hey! I wasn't finished!"

"Karin, hold him back," Ichigo barked after he flung his father off of a still-stunned Rukia.

"On it," she replied, going forward and putting her own father into a headlock.

Ichigo immediately reached down to grab both of Rukia's arms. She blinked a few times as he pulled her upwards and into the safe nest of his arms.

"You're not hurt are you?" He demanded, looking straight into her dazed eyes. His hand went to the back of her head and started looking for any unusual bumps. His father had been pretty forceful when he had knocked Rukia back. Who knew if the jerk had given her a goose-egg? Ichigo's temper flared as Rukia's eyes flickered around the room and began to go hazy.

"He didn't give you a concussion, did he?" He nearly shouted, both of his hands now going to Rukia's shoulders and shaking her as hard as he could. "Rukia! Don't go to sleep! Stay conscious!"

Her eyes snapped up to his and she glowered viciously. Her hand came up and pelted Ichigo on the side of the head. "I do not have a concussion you dolt!" She snapped, "Now stop molesting me, I'm perfectly fine. Just a bit surprised is all."

"Rukia," his father keened again, "You are absolutely the perfect woman for my son. Please, can I ask you to marry him in his place?"

"Shut _up_!" This time it was Ichigo's foot that made contact with Isshin's face. Karin dodged artfully while the man in her arms fell unconscious.

Ichigo fumed silently and belatedly realized that he was still holding onto Rukia's arms. He dropped them after a moment and gave her another shrewd once-over. Aside from a few pieces of hair askew and a bit of dust on her dress she looked absolutely… perfect.

From behind them all Yuzu sighed, "Why can't we ever have a _normal_ holiday dinner?"

*~*~*

Rukia slowly moved up the steps of the Kurosaki household and listened to the chatter down below. A small smile formed on her face as she heard Ichigo and his father arguing over the latest neighborhood gossip. Something about a former schoolmate of his going off and marrying a prince of some foreign country.

Rukia rolled her eyes and continued on. Isshin had told her that the bathroom on the upstairs floor was the one that contained the stain remover for the small spot of sauce she had managed to procure for her dress.

Her heels clicked on the hallway floors as she moved downward. All of the doors were closed so she peered into them one by one. The first room in which she looked contained two twin beds, two dressers, and a standing mirror a bit larger than herself. She guessed this was the twin's old room. She smiled when she saw that over one bed, posters of soccer stars and other sports littered the walls, while over the other bed, there were pictures of Paula Dean, Rachel Ray, and Julia Child, along with several recipes no doubt foraged from magazines.

Quietly, she shut the door and kept moving. The second room was large and had only one bed inside of it. Judging from the smell and the numerous medical journals sitting on the nightstand Rukia surmised that Isshin slept here.

She shut the door and walked across the hall. The next door that she opened was, indeed, the bathroom. Sighing in relief, she quickly located the stain remover and applied a bit to her black dress. It vanished quickly and she smiled happily.

Curiosity, however, brought her to the next door. The one that had the number fifteen dangling from a peg on the outside. She stopped and briefly told herself that she had no right, that she had already found the bathroom and that there was no need to go snooping around.

She stood outside the door, her hand on the knob.

_Oh screw it._

She pushed the door open and stepped inside, not bothering to turn on the light. She continued walking until she was in the very center of a small room—smaller than the twin's room but just large enough for a teenage boy. There was one bed wedged into the corner, just underneath of a small window, as well as a closet, a desk, and a shelf on which a few books sat.

Rukia smiled as she moved slowly over to the window. She looked outside and saw that it was snowing once again.

"Snow on Christmas," she mused, turning and walking towards his desk.

Being here, in the place where Ichigo had grown up, where he had lived every day until college, the place where he had fought with his family, laughed, cried, hugged his mother… it made her heart swell.

She sighed and ran a hand over his desk. When her fingers came back they were coated in a bit of dust but she didn't mind. She knew it had been a long time since he had last been here. No doubt because he knew that if he returned he would be in the clutches of his crazy father.

Rukia smiled and placed both hands on the back of the chair. It was nice to be here. The food had been delicious, of course, but then again, she could expect nothing less from Yuzu Kurosaki. The conversation had been wildly unpredictable—hell, even Karin had participated a bit. Her champagne had been passed around and consumed. Everyone had laughed, conversed, and made her feel…

They made her feel like she was part of the family.

A blush stained her cheeks when she thought about it. She like the Kurosaki's… a _lot_, but she wasn't about to go insisting that she be called a part of their family. Not when she had such a precarious situation going with Ichigo.

She sighed and bit her bottom lip. Besides… it's not like she actually wanted to _be _part of the family. She just liked the sex.

She sighed again, this time in aggravation, and pressed a hand to her forehead. "I swear," she groaned, "Lying to myself is an annoying habit."

"And talking to yourself?" A voice demanded from the doorway. "Is that any better?"

Rukia whipped her head to the side and gasped as Ichigo detached himself from the doorframe and strode confidently into his old room.

"Ichigo," she breathed, thankful for the darkness should her face be lighting up in a blush again, "What are you doing up here?"

"Hiding," he stated plainly, circling around her and going towards his old bed. She followed him with her eyes and watched as he made his way to his window. "Dad's busy telling the twins about some _riveting_ new musical called _My Spleen and Me_. Songs included. He shouldn't be done anytime soon."

"How exciting," Rukia murmured sarcastically, turning so her back was pressed against the chair. Ichigo was still at the window.

"Not really," he grunted and turned, "So… what are _you_ doing here? I mean, it's _my_ old room, after all."

"Don't know what you mean," Rukia responded in point three seconds flat. She raised her chin in fake haughtiness and fought to keep a smile away from her face.

"Really?" Ichigo demanded, a soft smirk in his voice. He took a few steps towards her until he was standing only three inches from her warm body. His hand rose and ran down the length of her arm. "You have no idea?"

Rukia fought to keep her breathing steady, "N-none at all." She whispered, cursing herself for stuttering.

Ichigo leaned down until his hot breath was fanning her face, her eyes fluttered shut—as if on their own accord—and she parted her lips for what she knew was going to happen next.

But instead of kissing her mouth, Ichigo's lips rose to her closed eyes, where he gently pressed butterfly kisses against her loose lids. "Are you sure?" He breathed, his breath now making her eyelashes murmur against her skin.

Rukia groaned, "Stop teasing," she whispered, her arms slowly reaching around his waist.

He chuckled low in his throat. "I'm glad you want this too."

Rukia's eyes opened and she blinked into the grinning face of Ichigo Kurosaki. His eyes held a wicked gleam that she knew could only mean trouble. Yet instead of fighting him—as her conscience would have dictated since she clearly knew his family was downstairs and probably wondering where they were—she brought her arms around his neck and raised an eyebrow.

"You have a time limit, Kurosaki. Think you're up for the challenge?" The slow, simmering, seductiveness had left her voice, leaving only quick, heady, desire in her tone. She knew that there would be more time for seduction later. Right now they had to make do with what they had.

"I'm up for anything Kuchiki," he grinned, pressing his pelvis into hers in order to emphasize his point.

Rukia gasped at his enormity and swallowed. Her skin was tingling and her breasts were tightening on their own accord. "What are you waiting for?" She gasped yearningly, rubbing her leg down the length of his.

No sooner did the words leave her mouth than did Ichigo hoist her up into his arms. Her legs wrapped around his waist obediently and she hurriedly began kissing his neck as he pushed the bedroom door shut and pressed her up against it.

His tongue forcefully invaded her mouth, prying her lips apart in a desperate search to taste her. Rukia surged back, her own lips urging against his, her teeth scraping their firm softness, and her own tongue fighting with his.

_Oh if his father could see us now._

Rukia's breasts ached beneath the fabric of her dress and she desperately brought one of her hands down from Ichigo's neck to find his. She quickly located his strong fingers. They were groping the softness of her hips and were also helping her to stay pressed against the wall. She tugged them upwards, insisting that he touch what she needed to be touched.

Ichigo's hand quickly began groping her breast. He teased the nipple through the fabric and circled the soft mound with his entire palm while his mouth continually battled with hers.

Rukia muffled her own moan of pleasure when she felt Ichigo's other hand leave her waist—she was now being supported by only his weight and her own hands—and slip underneath her dress. His fingers found the small of her back and traced themselves hungrily over the scrap of lace that constituted her underwear.

Ichigo ripped his mouth from hers and grinned, "Thong?"

Rukia panted hotly, "Special occasion." She leaned forward and once again they were fused at the mouth.

His fingers continued to tease her. His first hand had left her breast, and while Rukia bemoaned the loss silently, she said nothing of it for fear that he'd stop what he was doing with his _other_ hand.

Rukia's toes curled in her Jimmy Choo's as Ichigo's finger slowly traced the thin line of lace that was her underwear through her cheeks and down to the throbbing, wet spot between her legs.

"Shit," she breathed, doing the best she could to keep as quiet as possible.

"Rukia," he groaned, pressing kiss after kiss to her neck. "If we had time I'd fuck you so hard with my fingers you'd come again and again and _again_."

Shivers raced up Rukia's spine at such talk and she shuddered momentarily.

"Later," she promised in a few succinct pants, "Later… you can do what you want to me. I promise."

She felt him grin against her neck and before she could say anything else, she felt him pull the front of her thong aside, and slide the head of his throbbing cock against the folds of her sex.

"Yes, Ichigo," she hissed, her toes curling even more at the delicious feeling Ichigo was eliciting. "_Yes_…"

He jerked once and was sheathed inside of her. It took all of Rukia's power not to scream at the contact so instead she clamped her teeth down on the exposed skin of Ichigo's collar. He grunted and pulled out of her only slightly before pounding back into her.

Rukia nearly choked at the feeling. Normally, Ichigo like to have things rhythmic. Fast and hard, but still rhythmic. It allowed him to last longer inside of her before they both came to a screaming halt.

But now, with only moments to spare before his family began wondering where they were, Ichigo's thrusts were erratic, barbaric, and wild. Rukia moaned at the deep and penetrating feeling of him, sliding effortlessly in and out of her. The hard, relentless pushes and the frantic, withdrawn pulls. They made her wetter than a raging storm.

"Ichi—" she choked as the muscles inside of her body clamped down on him, throwing her into an orgasm of such intensity that her head was thrown back involuntarily. In front of her, she heard Ichigo groan hotly and instantly, she felt her insides become coated with him.

"Ah," he panted, holding her hips in place with his hands and pressing kisses to the hollow of her throat. "Damn."

"Yeah," Rukia managed to get out, "… D-damn."

He groaned and leaned until all of his body was pressing against hers. Rukia's legs tightened around his waist so she wouldn't fall and her arms encircled his back. Her fingers tangled in his hair and she sighed in happiness.

"That was one fucking nice quickie," she managed to say when her breathing had recovered.

"I'll say." He muttered, his member still twitching inside of her.

Rukia grinned and pressed a kiss to his ear. "Come on, we need to get cleaned up." She shifted and fought back a moan when Ichigo's cock massaged her insides once again.

"Yeah…" he muttered and in one swift move, he pulled out of her. He was about to release her when he looked up and smirked, "Your legs okay?"

She whacked him on the shoulder and glowered. "They're fine. Moron."

"Alright," he shrugged and released her immediately. Rukia fell down and instantly felt her legs wobble. She didn't fall though. She knew that if she fell she'd have Ichigo's snickering face to deal with. Her pride didn't want to take that.

As she looked over, Ichigo was busy zipping himself up and covering the spot she had bitten with his shirt. Rukia quickly went over to his dresser and fixed her hair as best she could. Her lips... she sighed, there was nothing she could really do about those. At least they weren't bitten. What would have been her excuse then? _Um, excuse me, I cut myself shaving in your bathroom?_

Yeah right.

"Oh… fuck."

Rukia looked over at Ichigo and blinked, the insides of her legs still squirming at the sight of him. She frowned and cocked her head to the side. "What is it?"

Instead of answering her outright, his hand pointed to the spot above his door. Rukia turned and furrowed her brow in confusion. Her eyes followed the frame upwards and, once she saw what Ichigo was pointing to, a feeling of dread washed in the pit of her stomach.

"Damn Dad…" Ichigo cursed.

Hanging on the top of Ichigo's door frame was a single branch of mistletoe.

*~*~*

"I have something for you," Rukia whispered, her naked body languidly sliding up the length of his.

"Does it involve those handcuffs we discussed?" Ichigo asked, his legs twisting in Rukia's silk sheets.

"Close, but no cigar," she pressed a kiss to his lips and slowly crept off of his hard form.

Ichigo groaned and threw his arm over his eyes. "Come _on_, you told me when we were in my room. You said, and I quote, 'Later you can do what you want to me. I promise.' Remember?"

"Don't worry," she sighed from her paused stance beside the bed, "We still have all night to get to _that_."

He threw his arm off of his face and groaned as she moved. But he certainly didn't protest the way she swung her hips as she walked—completely nude—around her room. She opened her closet and pulled out a large rectangular package, wrapped in red paper with a silver bow gracing the top.

Ichigo felt a smile creeping up on his face as she came back to the bed.

"As long as you're up," he said conversationally, "Would you mind getting the bag that's inside of my coat?"

Rukia lifted an eyebrow and smiled beatifically, "So that's what you were hiding when we got out of your Benz."

"That's the one."

She sauntered over to the other side of the room and quickly retrieved the hidden bag. With both gifts in her hands she came back to the bed and tossed the monstrosity to Ichigo. Had he not caught it the damn thing probably would have broken a few of his ribs. Needless to say, a small 'oof' escaped him the moment it fell into his arms.

"Jesus woman," he muttered, "What the hell is this?"

She glared at him in exasperation, "Open it and find out."

"Not until you open yours," he replied as he watched Rukia's fingers toy with the tissue paper sticking out of her gift.

"Nope, you first." She shook her head and Ichigo rolled his eyes.

"Same time," he insisted and this time it was Rukia who rolled her eyes.

"Fine," she held the bag at the ready, "Go."

Ichigo nodded and slowly ripped away the red wrapping paper that surrounded his gift. Silently, he thanked God that Rukia had gotten him something as well. He hadn't wanted to look like some sap by showing up and giving her a gift if she didn't have one to give to him.

He peeked at her as she slowly took away the tissue paper from her bag. He hoped she liked what he got her. After all, he had seen it inside of a store window about three weeks back and knew, on the spot, that she needed to have it. However the fact that it was a collectable and had cost him a small fortune—although the saleslady had assured him that it would be worth much more in time—had little to do with his decision to buy it.

Ichigo peeled away the rest of his wrapping the very moment Rukia discovered what was underneath all of the tissue paper he had so expertly shoved inside of a bag.

"_The Complete Works of William Shakespeare_," Ichigo breathed, his hands slid over the leather-bound cover and traced the embossed golden letters. He swallowed heavily as he turned the book to view its spine. The moment he did he felt his eyes bugging out of his head, "_First_ edition… this must have… how did you…?"

"Chappy the Rabbit, Beach Bunny Collectible," Rukia gasped hoarsely, "It's still in the box… never opened… but they only made ten thousand of these worldwide… this must have… where… how…?"

The two of them raised their heads at the same time, jaws open, eyes wide.

"Thank you," Rukia breathed.

"No… thank you," Ichigo reciprocated in an equally hoarse tone. "But how… I love Shakespeare, how did you…?"

"There are books… scattered all over your apartment," Rukia rasped, her hands trying not to clench the Chappy box too tightly, "Torn, ripped, well-used… I just thought… h-how did you…?"

"You're obsessed," he wheezed meaningfully, "I saw it and I knew… the Chappy mug comment, remember?"

The two sat on the bed, completely naked, breathing heavily, and clutching their gifts as though they were lifelines.

Ever so slowly, Rukia got up from the bed and moved to her dresser. The Chappy Beach Bunny safely locked in her hands. Ichigo watched as she placed the stuffed animal on the top of her dresser and arranged it so that the back of the box was facing them.

Ichigo frowned deeply when she turned to look at him, his book still clutched in his hands. Rukia took one look at him, strode forward, and put her hands on the book as well.

"What," he asked quietly, his chest tightening as he spoke. "Don't you… like it?"

"I love it, Ichigo," she whispered, jerking the book from his hands and instantly putting it on the side table, "But Chappy definitely does not need to see what I'm about to do to you right now."

With that said she pushed Ichigo Kurosaki onto his back and attacked him, pulling out the handcuffs as she went.

For the next several hours William Shakespeare lay forgotten on the side table and Chappy the Rabbit, Beach Bunny special edition collectable, had to endure all of the screams, moans, groans, and pants that came through the plastic wrappings of his never-opened box.

**(A/N: HAPPY VALENTINE'S DAY EVERYONE! Ah… a Catholic holiday to celebrate a martyred saint turned into a commercial festival where men and women alike spend hundreds of dollars on declarations of "love." On the bright side, I have been enjoying the rather copious amount of IchiRuki Valentines' Day fics that are out there. :D**

**I have a message for Jennyenny Dots. I received your PM but only actually remembered it a few days ago. *Scratches back of head sheepishly* I want to answer your questions but your email did not show up on the PM. Please, try and send it again but not in hyperlink form. Spell out the 'dot' and stuff. Then it'll show up.**

**Anyway, I hope you guys like this chapter! Thank you for all of the reviews I've received so far! SQUEE!**

**PLEASE DON'T FORGET TO REVIEW!!!)**


	36. Chapter 35

**Disclaimer: I do not own Bleach or any Bleach affiliates.**

_**Odalisque**_

****

(A/N: This chapter is dedicated to Ichigorukiaforever; because she's probably one of the most enthusiastic readers when it comes to this fic and because she makes me smile with her PMs. This one's for you!)

Chapter 35

The static on the line was almost unbearable. It seared into his ear and irritated his mind like nothing else. Yet here he was, listening to this static, while his contact managed to put himself on the phone.

Several very annoying seconds later, a slick voice came on the other end of the line.

"Yes?"

"We're ready."

There was a slight pause and the suddenly, the irritation felt by the caller evaporated. He could practically taste it now…

_Victory._

It was what he had been waiting for. What he wanted. It was what he deserved.

"What day?"

"This coming Monday."

"You sure?"

"Absolutely."

"Is everything going as planned?"

The caller sighed, must he bring this up every time they spoke? "All except for that unfortunate incident with the Kuchiki. No matter, it will be dealt with soon enough."

"Excellent." There was a pause. "We will have no further contact until that day. Make sure the girl does what she's supposed to do. I'll handle Kurosaki."

"Of course."

The phone clicked shut and the caller sighed in relief. At least the static was gone.

*~*~*

"What are you doing on New Years?" Ichigo asked as he parked his ass directly on the top of Rukia's desk.

She looked up from her papers and chewed on the tip of her pen, diligently thinking. Ichigo brought his hand up and pushed a stray lock of hair away from her face and she quickly leaned in towards his hand. "Hmm," she murmured as his thumb brushed over her cheek. "I might have to go to a formal dinner with Byakuya. You know, Kuchiki Family stuff and all that shit."

Ichigo's face wrinkled immediately and she grinned at his pouting expression, "Or I can tell him I've suddenly caught the pneumonic plague and stay confined in a bedroom with you all night."

"Excellent!" Ichigo grinned, he leaned down and pressed a short kiss to her waiting lips, "Knew I'd break you sooner or later."

"Hmm," she chuckled, "If you knew that means I'm getting predictable. I need to start being a bit more _un_predictable."

Ichigo straightened his spine and grinned, "Does this mean we're going to have desk sex again?"

She shoved him off of her desk with a laugh and got back to her paperwork.

Ichigo merely chuckled and went to his desk, knowing that at some point this day, he'd be underneath her desk, tasting the insides of her thighs, and making her come.

*~*~*

Today.

That's all the letter had said. Orihime had read it over three times just to be sure. She had even held it up to the light to make sure there was no hidden lettering anywhere else. She had looked on the back, on the front, and inside of the envelope to see if there was anything else. Nothing. Nothing but one word.

It sent chills down her spine.

She swallowed and carefully placed the one paper on the refrigerator, next to all of the other letters she had received. She knew what she was supposed to do. She knew her role by heart.

She swallowed and nodded. This was what she had been waiting for. It had all come down to this… no, it had all come down to _her_.

"I am no longer the rook," she said as she strode into her bathroom and placed her hands on both sides of the sink, staring deeply into her own pool-like eyes.

She stood up as straight as she could and puffed out her chest as far as it would go. Her fair hair was flipped over her shoulder and her chin was held high in the air.

"I am the queen."

*~*~*

"Hey," Rukia said as the door to Toshiro and Momo's apartment opened. She stood in the doorway, waiting Chinese food in her hands. Gently, she lifted them to Momo's eyes and offered a half-smile. "House of Wong?"

Momo lifted one corner of her mouth and nodded. "Come on in, Toshiro's at a meeting. He said he'd be back by seven thirty."

Rukia stepped inside of the large and tasteful apartment, carefully holding the heavy food in her hands. She slowly walked over to the island and put it on the marble counter. She sighed and turned to face her friend.

Momo—while she had certainly looked better—did not seem as gaunt as she had a few days ago. Her face, while still pale, had more color in the cheeks, her eyes had a bit more sparkle, and her lips were not as ghostly white as they were earlier.

"You're looking a bit better," Rukia said, an optimistic tone in her voice. She pulled out the cartons of food and began to place them on the counter. "Considering…" her voice trailed off, not even daring to mention the reason.

"I know," she sighed, "You and Toshiro say that every time you see me."

"But it's true."

"I know…" Momo whispered, hanging her head a bit. "I just kinda wish that…"

Rukia blinked and paused as she opened the lids to check the contents of the containers. "What do you wish?" She asked, her tone quiet and her eyes probing.

Momo shook her head once, her eyes glazed and staring off into the distance, she raised her head and allowed a small smile to creep onto her face. "It's nothing… I guess I'm just confused, is all."

"About?"

Momo shuffled into the room and went to the cabinet to grab a few plates. "This whole… _thing._"

Rukia nodded wisely and slowly shifted the food from the cartons onto the plates. Ever since Momo's assault she hadn't referred to it directly. She always called it, 'the thing' and everyone instantly understood what she meant. No one wanted to bring up that word, even if it was technically correct.

Rukia dished out a heaping pile of lo mien noodles onto a plate and sent a sideways glance over to her best friend. It was true, Momo did look a little bit better, but then again, _little_ was the operative word.

She still had no idea what had happened to her. All she told Rukia—as well as Toshiro, Ichigo, and Renji—was that she remembered being at the party and talking with her fiancé, and then… nothing. The next thing she knew she was inside of a room, naked, bruised, sore, and frightened.

"I've been better," she muttered, "But… you know, in a way it's kind of a relief."

Rukia frowned and picked up a stray noodle that was dangling over the edge of the plate. "Relief? How so?"

Momo let a small, wry, and watery smile come over her face. "I don't remember any of it Rukia." She paused and swallowed hard, looking down at the countertop, "_Any of it._ If I have to be honest, it just kind of feels like I had really r-rough s-sex." Her voice broke softly and Rukia looked at her with apprehension.

The two women in the room seemed frozen.

Momo was the first to move. She shook her head, stilling any tears that might be accumulating in her eyes, "No… it's alright. I think… I think it would be worse if I actually _did_ remember."

"Momo…"

She looked up and offered a miniscule smile. "But Toshiro's been great. He's been with me to the police station, to the doctor, and… and… he's talked to Sosuke about giving me a few days off."

Rukia's head stiffened at the sound of the name 'Sosuke' and—for some reason—a small shiver ran up her spine.

"You mean Mr. Aizen?" Rukia asked quietly.

Her friends' head lifted slightly and a small blush ran over her cheeks. "Y-Yes… I mean Mr. Aizen. It's just… that one time when we had lunch he asked me to call him, ah, Sosuke."

Rukia's eyebrows pulled themselves together and downward but she nodded nonetheless.

_Anytime that a business associate in a position higher than me has asked me to call them by their first name I refuse, _she thought inwardly.

She shrugged softly and brought the plates over to the table. Maybe Momo just wasn't aware of the way the hierarchy worked. After all, Rukia was the only one she had really worked around for several years and even at work they were completely relaxed with each other.

"Oh…" Rukia murmured in response to Momo's comment, something still not sitting right inside of her.

Momo came and sat down at the table, "But I realized… it's not up to me anymore."

"Meaning?" Rukia swirled some noodles around her fork and popped them into her mouth, chewing quietly so as not to miss a word.

"Meaning," she sighed and ate a piece of freshly steamed broccoli. "It's out of my hands. I'm going to trust Detective Abarai to figure out what happened to me and… and I'm going to keep on living." She allowed a small smile to come onto her face. "I'm going to get married, I'm going to live happily ever after with Toshiro, and I'm going to have a family." Her smile became wider and her eyes became slightly dazed, "Fat babies… that's what I want."

Rukia paused mid-chew as she listened to what her friend was saying.

"_I'm going to keep on living…"_

_What a noble thing to say._ Momo had been assaulted, she had been battered and bruised, and she couldn't even remember anything past getting to that party… and yet she wanted to put it all behind her and get on with her life. Rukia couldn't even imagine herself being that strong.

A smile formed on Rukia's pink lips and she reached a hand over to place it on top of Momo's. The young woman didn't even flinch.

Momo looked up at Rukia and frowned, chewing softly on her food. "What is it?" She asked, swallowing softly.

Rukia squeezed her palm and grinned, "Momo Hinamori… soon to be Momo Hitsugaya," she added with a smile. "You are my hero."

Momo gasped and her eyes watered slightly. She flipped her hand over and gently squeezed Rukia's hand.

"I love you Rukia." She whispered, a few streaks of salty wetness running down her cheeks.

Rukia placed her fork down and reached over to catch the tears on her best friend's face. "I love you too Momo."

Their hands tightened until it was almost painful but neither one of them pulled away.

Momo let out a wet and weak chuckle and shook her head, "If Toshiro and Ichigo could hear us now…"

Rukia's eyes twinkled softly and she shook her head, "I don't know about Toshiro but if Ichigo could hear us now he'd probably want to join in on the action."

This time, when Momo laughed, it wasn't the pained chuckle Rukia had become used to hearing. Her chest quickly heaved up and down in a happy giggle and she hastily brought a hand out to cover her mouth.

Rukia beamed at the sound and quickly squeezed Momo's other hand twice.

"You know," Momo said, traces of her renewing giggle still in her voice, "I actually don't doubt that."

"That scares me a bit."

"Hey, you're the one sleeping with him."

Hand in hand, shooting tiny quips back and forth, the two ate their dinner, remembering what it truly meant to be the best of friends.

*~*~*

Ichigo was sitting in his office, eating a chilled lunch, and trying to review a few of the final touches that needed to be done so the merger could be complete.

_It's only a month away._ He thought casually, leaning back in his chair and running a hand through his hair.

_On February the first I'll no longer have Rukia in my office. She'll be back to take over Mr. Ukitake's position. I'll be alone in here._ He sighed and took another bite of his sandwich. _Damn, no more desk sex._

_Okay,_ he reasoned, _it was a bit more than that._ He'd miss the midget once she was gone and working in the adjacent building. Granted, they'd still have their arrangement in place, they'd still each other as often as they could, and they'd still have hot, mind-blowing sex whenever they wanted. Still, he doubted it would be _exactly_ the same.

After all, he wouldn't be able to just take her home after work, he'd have to wait for her to finish all of her things. Which, knowing her, would take her long into the evening hours.

_Plus, if she's going to be the head of legal that means she'll be even more neurotic about her work than usual._ _She'll probably be at the office six days a week, working until eight. _He groaned at the thought. _Who'll be there to stop her from working all the time if not me?_

He scribbled his name on a couple of papers and pushed them to the sides of his desk. Slowly, he leaned back into his chair and gazed at the ceiling, not really seeing anything. He wondered if he'd really be able to see her as often as he did now. Well, that and he hoped that she'd want to see him just as much.

_She will. The sex is way too good._

He shook his head and told himself to stop thinking about Rukia. It was just so hard, the damn vixen was in his mind twenty four seven. When he was with her, when he was without her, when he was at work, when he was at home, when he was just alone in his apartment… he just always seemed to think about _her_.

His reverie was interrupted with a sharp, double knock on the door.

He jerked upwards into his chair and swallowed, maybe Rukia had decided to come back early from her lunch. He frowned though. Rukia wouldn't have knocked. "Come in." He called, his brow low.

The door opened a few inches and Sosuke Aizen slowly made his way over the threshold. "Hello," his charming voice said gently, "Do you have a moment?"

Ichigo hurriedly shoved his lunch to the side and sat up straighter in his seat. "Of course," he said, standing up and coming over to the other side of his desk, he strode forward and extended his hand to his boss. "Mr. Aizen, I didn't know you were coming by today."

"Ah," he said with a gentle smile. He extended his hand as well and, after a moment, shook Ichigo's with a tight grip. "But neither did I, so I guess that makes us rather even."

"Of course sir," Ichigo said, doing the mandatory two pumps before releasing his boss's hand.

"Ichigo," he said, pushing his glasses up his nose with a firm finger, "I wanted to talk to you about some last-minute details that concern the merger."

"Certainly," Ichigo looked around for an extra chair but realized after a moment that none but his and Rukia's chairs were in the office. "Ah, take my seat."

"Oh no," Mr. Aizen shook his head, brushing the comment off congenially, "You go ahead and sit, I'll be very brief."

"Alright then," Ichigo muttered, moving back and taking his own seat. Even though it felt a bit weird to sit while his boss was still standing he _was_ following orders. "What do you need to talk to me about?"

Mr. Aizen grinned and held up a small file containing a few papers, it had been resting in his second hand while his first had shook Ichigo's. "Just some things for you to sign. As head lawyer on this merger agreement I need you to look over the final touches."

Something inside of Ichigo stirred warily but he pushed it away. "Actually sir," he began, allowing a small smirk to converge on his face, "Ru—Ms. Kuchiki's more the head lawyer. We work together sure but she can be pretty authoritative when she wants to."

_Especially in the bedroom._

"Ah, yes," Mr. Aizen muttered, coughing slightly and setting about fifteen papers on Ichigo's desk, "I _have_ heard that about her. Now, if you'll just sign here."

Ichigo raised an eyebrow slightly. He pulled the edges of the sheets into his fingers and gently thumbed through them. He frowned softly and asked, "Shouldn't I read them?"

Mr. Aizen chuckled happily and shook his head, "Only if you want to read a rather long and boring order for the amount of pens, notepads, staplers, desk chairs, and therapeutic stress balls the entire office needs."

"In that case," Ichigo muttered, scrawling his signature along the line of the last page, "I'll just get on with it." He propped his elbow on the table and handed the bunch of papers to his boss. He glanced slightly at them and attempted to read a few of the words but was stopped immediately when the sheets were whisked out of his hands.

"Excellent," Mr. Aizen said, stuffing the sheets of paper back into the manila folder. "Thank you for your cooperation Mr. Kurosaki. Now, if you could only get Ms. Kuchiki to sign it I would be extremely grateful." He shoved the entire manila envelope into his hands and shrugged, "She doesn't have to read it either since it's just an order but I'd like you to get her to do it anyway." He straightened and grinned, leaving Ichigo holding the folder. "That is one of the last things I need to do before we get this show on the road. But I do need it back… today preferably."

"Fine by me," Ichigo said as he nodded and grinned at his boss, pushing the file into his briefcase so he wouldn't forget to make Rukia sign it. His eyes flickered over to her empty desk and, for a moment, he wished she was here. She knew better than anyone how to fill empty silences with meaningless conversation. Ichigo, on the other hand, really didn't have the tact for that.

He cleared his throat and looked back up at his boss, whose eyes were staring out of the massive window behind Ichigo's desk, saying nothing.

"Do you want to wait until Rukia comes back from lunch?" He asked, erasing the awkward silence quickly, "I mean, she'll be here in about twenty minutes. She can sign those papers too."

"Oh no," Mr. Aizen said, shaking his salt-and-pepper head only once, "Just tell her what they are and that she can sign them and everything will be perfectly fine."

"Ah," Ichigo muttered, feeling the uncomfortable tension growing inside of the room once again. Mr. Aizen was simply standing in the center of the room, staring out the window, and Ichigo was sitting in his desk, painfully aware of the silence and absentmindedly removing nonexistent pieces of lint from his clothing. They stayed like that for nearly two whole minutes before Mr. Aizen turned back to Ichigo and smiled.

"Mr. Kurosaki… I'm happy that you've done this work to my satisfaction. Our plans are filling out very nicely."

Ichigo blinked and fought to keep a frown off of his face, "Well… thank you sir. But it wasn't just me, it was Rukia too."

"Yes…" he sighed, smiling down at him happily, "I just want you to know that you will amply rewarded."

_Okay… weird._

"Well, thank you sir." Ichigo muttered, that strange feeling in the pit of his stomach intensifying as he watched a grin curl around Mr. Aizen's lips.

"You're welcome…" he murmured, he sighed deep in his throat before turning around towards Ichigo and nodding once. "Alright then, I'll be off."

"Okay," Ichigo stood from his seat and extended his hand over his desk. Mr. Aizen took it and pumped it twice before coolly releasing it. "You have a good day sir."

Mr. Aizen only grinned and nodded, "You have one as well, Ichigo." He strode to the door and quickly jerked it open. He was almost ready to leave when he jerked back and coughed lightly in his throat. Ichigo craned his neck to see around his rather bulky boss. Was it Rukia on the other side of that door?

"Oh, hello Ms. Inoue."

_Holy… shit._

"Hello Mr. Aizen, sir." She said sweetly, her mawkish voice permeating the length of the room and resonating in Ichigo's ears. His initial reaction—which was, of course, to jump underneath of his desk and hide—was shoved down deep inside of him as he tried to keep his cool. He cringed and prayed to whatever god was out there that Inoue wasn't here to talk to him.

"How are you today Ms. Inoue?" He asked kindly, his voice more fatherly than anything business-like.

"I'm doing alright sir…" she muttered hesitantly, then brought her hand up to her cheek and pressed down quickly, squishing the skin below her fingers. "Well… actually, no… not so well."

"Really?" He frowned, cocking his head to the side. "Why?"

Ichigo winced as she giggled pathetically and then shook her head, "Last weekend I bought a new puppy and last night he accidentally ate some of my dinner. This morning he was weak and sick. I called the vet but he told me that it would pass. But I'm so worried about my little baby."

Even though his back was turned to him, Ichigo could practically picture Mr. Aizen's eyebrows going up.

He clicked his tongue and shook his head from side to side. "Oh my, I know how you feel… my niece recently received a new dog and it got sick one day, she was so worried she couldn't even concentrate enough to go to school."

Inoue shifted from one foot to the next and coughed again. "Actually, that's what I was coming to see Mr. Kurosaki about."

Ichigo blinked twice and stood from his desk, still fighting the urge to climb under it or jump out of the window, whichever was more effective. But he couldn't do either of those things right now. Not when his boss was standing only a few feet away, not when Rukia was downstairs in the lunchroom, and definitely not while suicide was still technically illegal. No matter what the situation, no matter how much he didn't want to be in Inoue's presence, he had to deal with it, if only for the sake of his job.

And his sex life.

"What did you need to see me about, Inoue?" He cursed himself for forgetting the 'Ms.' and made a mental note to remember it next time.

He watched as Inoue's head popped up over Mr. Aizen's shoulder and looked at him hopefully. "Mr. Kurosaki, good, I was hoping you'd be here."

He forced a smile onto his face and swallowed, "Oh, what for?"

Inoue looked sheepishly down to her shoes and dug one of her toes into the carpet. Her already fever-enhanced face became even redder as she blushed under his gaze. But then again, what else was new?

"I was wondering, that is, I was _hoping_," she amended swiftly, "That you might be able to take me home… to see my puppy, of course."

_Hell no._

"Gee, Inoue," he muttered, shrugging his shoulders and bringing a hand up to rub the back of his neck. Damn, he forgot the 'Ms.' again, "I've got a ton of work to do today and I just… I don't think I could spare a—"

"Mr. Kurosaki," Inoue cut in quickly, stopping him just as he was about to shoot her down like a low flying duck during hunting season. "I—I understand w-why you don't want to escort me home. I do… I just…" she lifted her doe brown eyes to his and, for a second, Ichigo could swear that he saw something resembling tears dusting the rims. She swallowed hard and continued, "I'd really like to go home and if you'd permit me, I'd like to… apologize."

"Apologize?" Mr. Aizen laughed, "Whatever for? I highly doubt that you'd do anything that would warrant an apology Ms. Inoue."

_Wanna bet?_

She prettily blushed and looked away, "I—I know, Mr. Aizen, sir, but I do think that I owe Mr. Kurosaki an apology. But… I just thought that… I mean, there's my dog and if he took me home I'd be able to explain things to him." She paused for a moment and let loose a dainty pout.

_Oh God… don't tell me he's actually buying this crap._ Ichigo tilted his head to the side and examined the rather pitiful looking Orihime Inoue. Her head was bent down, her cheeks and nose was red, as if she'd been worriedly crying, her nose looked runny, and her eyes were filled with fear. She really did look worried… and that expression on her face made her look, oh what was the word for it… ugh, she actually looked _sincere_.

_Wait a second… am _I_ actually buying this crap?_

"Well, if you're that concerned about your new dog and you'd like to talk to Mr. Kurosaki," Mr. Aizen shrugged, patting Inoue fondly on the shoulder, "Kill two birds with one stone I always say!"

Ichigo had to fight to keep himself from blanching. Did his boss just order him to take Inoue home just so they could _talk_? Could he actually do that? Was he trying to play counselor or something? Did he _want_ Ichigo to get molested along the way?

"Do you think you could Mr. Kurosaki?" He asked, turning around and facing the still reeling man.

"Ah… ah…" he muttered, furiously rubbing the skin on the back of his neck. "I—I don't know if… I mean, Rukia will—"

"Don't worry," Mr. Aizen said breezily, "I have a job for _Ms. Kuchiki_ to do today; you'll have nothing to worry about. Take Ms. Inoue home and then you can take the rest of the day off; after all, it _is_ Friday."

"Ah—"

"That sounds perfect," Inoue cried, wiping her nose with a spare tissue. He wondered if she stored them in her cleavage.

"But—"

"I'll see you later then, Mr. Kurosaki," Mr. Aizen said cheerfully, moving towards the exit. "Thank you for taking Ms. Inoue home and don't worry, I'll tell Ms. Kuchiki where you went."

Mr. Aizen nodded once to Ichigo, turned towards the door, brushed past Inoue, and disappeared down the hallway. Ichigo was left standing alone in his office, staring blankly at the spot that his boss had just vacated, while his worst nightmare stood in the doorway, beaming at him.

_What the hell just happened?_

*~*~*

Rukia hummed a small tune as she walked back towards her office. Her footsteps were light as she gently clicked her heels on the soft carpet beneath her feet.

The smile on her face was obvious as she passed people in the halls. She nodded to them, greeted them, and even remembered to ask one particular woman how her newborn niece was doing. Each one of them, in turn, smiled right back and told her to have a pleasant day.

Oh and what a pleasant day it was.

She quickly opened the door to her office and stepped inside. "Ichigo, I'm back from—"

Her sentence was abruptly cut short and the room fell into complete silence. Her eyes swept from one corner of the office to the other, still not seeing that familiar orange head of hair, damnable smirk, and beautiful body.

"Ichigo?" She called out, just to be sure that he wasn't snickering behind the door just waiting to ambush her when she came in.

_Childish, I guess, but still fun._ She told herself as she looked dutifully behind the door.

He wasn't there. She blinked twice and slowly moved a bit further into the office. Her feet—without provocation from her brain—immediately took her to his desk. It still had several papers on the top of it, the computer was hibernating, and there were even a few crumbs from his lunch still scattered about. She frowned and absentmindedly brushed them off the veneer top. Her eyes scanned the papers and her frown became even more pronounced.

_Did he have to go somewhere today?_ She asked herself as she came back to her own desk and began to search for something—anything—that would tell her where he was. A note, an email, a voicemail… she pushed aside everything on her desk, looked in her inbox, and even checked both of her phones… nothing.

Swallowing hard, she got up from her chair and opened the door to their collective office. She peered outside and quickly looked over to the secretary's chair. Her eyebrows rose when she noticed that the woman sitting at the desk was not, in fact, her mortal enemy.

_Mortal enemy sounds childish,_ she chided herself quietly. _Grow up._

Rukia walked towards the large desk slowly, not wanting to seem as though she was in a specific hurry, and examined the young woman sitting behind it.

She was young, probably even younger than Rukia, with long dark hair that fell in a thick braid across her back. Two more strands fell near her ears to frame her heart-shaped face. She was wearing a simple black skirt and a neatly pressed white blouse. Her feminine attributes—Rukia noticed rather quickly—were slightly smaller than Inoue's. That thought alone made Rukia—for some odd reason—feel a bit better.

"Excuse me," she said, coming up to the desk and placing her hands on the surface. The woman looked up and blinked softly. By the way she was looking at her, Rukia could tell that this woman had been trained, much like herself, to conceal her emotions from a very young age. Her lips were in a flat line, her chocolate eyes, which would have been beautiful if she had smiled, were expressionless, and her nose barely twitched enough to signify breathing.

"May I help you?" She asked, her voice melodious but oddly still monotone.

Rukia nodded, thinking to herself that she liked this girl much more than the ever-chipper, psychotic Inoue. "I was wondering if you knew the whereabouts of Ichigo Kurosaki?" She tried to disguise the slight worry in her voice for something that sounded like annoyance but she didn't think she did a very good job. It was hard trying _not _to care about the orange-headed buffoon.

The woman looked down at her computer screen and then up at Rukia, her eyes taking on the expression of being away in a far off land. Finally, after what seemed like ages, she snapped back to Rukia and nodded, "Yes, I believe I do. About twenty minutes ago he escorted Ms. Orihime Inoue to her house. He also took the rest of the day off as per the suggestion of Mr. Sosuke Aizen."

"He _what_?" The words were out of her mouth before she could stop herself. Although strangely enough, she wasn't even sure if she was talking about Ichigo or about what Mr. Aizen had done.

The woman nodded and then indicated to this desk, "The woman who works here, he took her home, and he also took the rest of the day off."

Rukia had to fight hard to keep her jaw from slipping away from the rest of her mouth or from asking the new woman behind the desk to repeat herself… again.

"Thank you," she mumbled, her voice stunned.

The woman nodded once and turned back to writing an efficient looking memo.

Rukia turned and woozily wobbled back in the direction of her office. Her mind was spinning, her stomach was churning, but more important than that, her heart was wrenching inside of her chest.

_What the hell is going on?!_

*~*~*

Ichigo sat in the driver's seat of his Benz, gripping the wheel as tightly as possibly, eyes staring forward and practically plastered on the road, and trying not to breathe.

Orihime Inoue was now sitting in the passenger's seat of his precious car.

_That seat is reserved for Rukia,_ he thought sourly as he pressed his foot onto the brake and drove slowly towards a light.

Neither one of them was speaking. Inoue was sitting in the now-infected seat, legs folded neatly, and eyes cast downward. Occasionally, she would look up at Ichigo and then shoot her eyes back down to the car's carpet. Ichigo wanted to scream. He couldn't believe that he was in his own car, driving his practical stalker home because she had a little dog to take care of.

"Mr. Kurosaki…"

Oh Christ, there was that voice. So high and sugary; it didn't command his attention like Rukia's did, it just made him want to cringe. The light changed and he accelerated the car. His foot was steady on the pedal as he drove.

"I'm sorry."

Ichigo's foot slipped on the pedal and the car lurched forward a bit. He brought himself back to the present and allowed his frown to deepen by about three inches. A quick retort was swallowed on his tongue and he just focused on driving. If she wanted to speak he'd let her. He just didn't want to talk to her in return.

"I—I know you might think I've been a bit _persistent_—"

_More like psychotic._

"But I want you to know that I'm sorry for the way I've acted. You know, always trying to go out with you," she chuckled low in her throat and sniffled, "But I guess I've just been in love with you ever since you kissed me at the Christmas party last year."

"Inoue," he growled, his grip on the wheel loosening slightly. "I didn't mean to do that. You know I didn't."

"Yes," she whispered softly, "I know and I'm sorry. I guess I… I just… I'd like to be friends with you, Mr. Kurosaki."

He nearly choked on air, "_Friends?_"

"Yes," she blushed, looking down at the folded hands on her lap, "I realize it's a lot to ask for but, well, we're going to be working with each other for a while and I just think that it would be better to get rid of all the negative stuff between us."

"Inoue—"

"Please, Mr. Kurosaki," she whispered softly, "I… I know th-that you're already taken."

His head whipped over towards hers and he narrowed his eyes. "What?" He demanded, his tone deadly. He was no longer in the mood to placate Inoue. She needed to tell him what she knew _now_ or else they'd never be able to be 'friends,' like she said. He snorted inwardly, not that he'd ever consider the idea, of course.

"You and Ms. Kuchiki," she whispered, "I know about… you two." A crimson blush came onto her face and she swallowed heavily, looking away, "Sometimes you two aren't as quiet as you think."

The blood rushed away from Ichigo's face.

"But I haven't told anyone!" She squealed, suddenly twisting her entire body towards him. He cringed when he felt her overly-large breasts pressing up against his arm. His arm recoiled immediately and shuddered. She blinked her doe-brown eyes and pulled her lips into a pout, "See, Mr. Kurosaki, I want you to know that you can trust me. I want you to know that I'll never tell, if it means that we can be friends."

_Why is this happening to me?_

Ichigo looked out the window and blinked when he realized he was now on the street that Inoue had mentioned. "Is this where you live?" He deadpanned.

She looked outside the window and bit her bottom lip. "Yes… it is." She turned sadly to him and pulled her eyes down towards the gearshift. He pushed the car into park on the side of the street and winced when he saw two tears fall from Inoue's eyes.

All of his defenses were immediately shot. He raked a hand through his hair and groaned. He just couldn't help it. When it came to women and tears he was one of those stereotypical men who just didn't have a clue what to do. After all, look what had happened to Rukia after she had semi-cried in the office! He had followed her home and had made her come so hard that she fell unconscious.

He mentally shrugged. It wasn't the most orthodox way of doing things but still… she had stopped crying hadn't she?

Was it going to be the same with Inoue too?

_I'd never do that,_ his mind hissed at him for making the blunder.

He cringed, wondering if he'd have to placate Inoue just a bit. Did he really have to become friends with her just so he could stop her from crying?

Three more tears dropped onto her waiting hands.

_Shit._

"Ah geez," he groaned, "Don't… don't cry Inoue… please. Okay, okay… I accept your apology, we can be friends. Just, please stop crying."

Her head snapped up and, as if by some magical powers, all of the tears in her eyes disappeared. A huge grin broke out on her face and she nodded her head up and down. "Really! Oh Mr. Kurosaki! Thank you! Thank you!" She lurched forward and wrapped her arms around his neck. Before Ichigo could say another word she was smothered against him, her large breasts pressing painfully into his chest, her hair tickling his nose and making him want to sneeze, her gaudy perfume swamping his senses, and her tight arms grasping him hard.

"Inoue!" He bellowed, "Get off! P-Please!" He added as an afterthought. Silently cursing himself. Why the hell had he agreed to such a Faustian deal? Now he would have to put up with Inoue because they were—he choked on the word—_friends_.

She released him immediately and pulled herself back into her seat. "I'm sorry, Mr. Kurosaki, I just—it was so wonderful to hear you say that. I'm so happy!" Her eyes shined brightly, only to be outmatched by the countless arrays of whiter-than-white teeth piled high in her mouth.

Oddly enough her canines look _really_ sharp.

"Don't mention it," he grumbled, ready to get home and take a shower just so he could wash the stink of her off of his body.

"Mr. Kurosaki," she giggled and then blushed madly, "M-May I call you… _Ichigo_?"

"No."

"That's fine too!" She cried happily, "One step at a time I always say!" She moved her hands to her door and was about to open it when she blinked prettily at him. "Would you walk me to the door Mr. Kurosaki? All of my other friends do it! I think it would be a great starting place for us!"

_Oh my God. Does this woman ever quit?_

"Inoue, I really need to—"

He was cut off before he could even say another word. "Please, Mr. Kurosaki, I promise this'll be the only time. I just really want to start our friendship out on the right foot. You and me… pals, you know? _Please_?" She drew out the word like a three-year-old would.

Ichigo could feel a migraine throbbing on the edges of his subconscious. There was nothing he wanted to do less than take Inoue to her door. He'd rather face one thousand snarling demons than do _that_.

But she just wouldn't shut _up_.

"I just think it would be really great, you know, finally, after all this time, we'll be friends. At last you and me! We'll be able to—"

"Fine!" Ichigo shouted, angrily jerking his door open—into oncoming traffic even—but he didn't care. He had to do anything to get rid of Orihime Inoue and his ever-mounting migraine.

She leaped out of his vehicle without another word and happily reached across the hood to grapple for his hand. He tried to jerk it out of the way but she caught it before he could. Her grip on his wrist was solid iron and she tugged him playfully towards the steps to her apartment building. Ichigo wanted nothing more than to karate-chop her hand off of him but he knew that doing so would only cause a scene.

She quickly unlocked the door to the apartment complex and began fitfully tugging him inside. She giggled like a mad-woman as she brought him up three flights of stairs. "Come on Mr. Kurosaki!" She laughed, "I always like to go up fast. It makes me feel like I'm a space ship about to blast off!"

"I don't doubt it," he ground out, angrily quickening his pace so she wasn't pulling his shoulder from his socket anymore.

Suddenly, she whirled to a stop in front of a door; Ichigo was jerked forward a few feet and then came back around to face her. In those scant two seconds Inoue was able to undo the lock on her door and push it open. She giggled happily and suddenly launched herself on top of her. Ichigo let out a strangled yelp of surprise as her arms went around his neck and her body pressed against his. Within the next second, her mouth was searching for his.

Ichigo didn't know how to react. Hell, he didn't even know what the fuck was happening! All he knew was that Inoue now wrapped around him, pushing her lips against his, and—and—trying to pull him inside.

His arms shot out and his hands hit the two sides of the doorframe. Inoue's mouth was still on his and he considered head butting her to get her off. He was almost ready to do it too, had she not suddenly pulled away from him completely.

The body that had, just a second ago, been pushed up against his, was now treading happily inside of her apartment. She laughed and got behind her door, pushing it forward to close it.

"Thank you for the escort Mr. Kurosaki!" She giggled, swinging the door shut on him.

Ichigo jerked his hands away as quickly as he could, making sure not to get them stuck in the door. Dazed, he took two steps away from Orihime Inoue's door and blinked.

Once.

Twice.

"What the _hell_ just happened?"

*~*~*

Uryu Ishida sighed as he rifled through the papers he was currently holding in his hands. Damn foreign stockholders… they just _had_ to go and make his life a living hell. It was Friday afternoon and now, with this bomb dropped in his lap, he probably wouldn't get out of the office until nine tonight.

"Why can't they just accept the fact that the two companies are merging?" He muttered dejectedly as he stepped out of the elevator onto Kurosaki's floor, "Or, better yet, why can't they just take stock from a new company and stop bothering me!"

He sighed in frustration and pushed his glasses angrily up his nose. He didn't mean to be angry or frustrated. After all, this was a simple, routine, business procedure. It was his job to deal with the foreign clientele and make sure they were prepared to invest in a company such as this.

It was routine, of course, he just felt like he'd done it hundreds of times before. It was more like babysitting than anything else.

He groaned and tried to fight the urge to run his hands through his hair. His father had always told him: _Don't let them see you're frustrated. If you keep your cool you keep the power. Make them powerless_.

It _seemed_ like sound advice.

He quickly straightened his shoulders and swiveled around the slight bend in the wall that would give him a perfect view of the secretary's desk.

Ms. Orihime Inoue's desk.

A soft and pained smile came onto his face at the very thought of her. _Forget about her, _his brain scolded as his pathetic heart tried to start pumping a bit faster than its normal pace. _She's not interested in you, only in Kurosaki. Stop fighting for something that you have no control over._ He sighed dejectedly and nodded in an answer to his own scalding thoughts.

_Forget about her._

He rounded the edge of the bend and immediately stopped in his tracks.

His eyes widened to the size of tennis balls.

_Who is_ she?

Uryu Ishida felt his face growing warm, he felt his body begin to tingle, and he felt his heart—which had one minute ago given up on racing—charge to the cardiac starting gates like a racehorse waiting to be let loose.

The most beautiful creature he had ever seen was sitting in the chair that Orihime Inoue normally occupied.

No… _really._

Her skin was pale and… and it looked creamy to the touch. Her body, which was sitting primly in the proffered chair, was supple and curvaceous but still slender. His eyes roved over her like he was a perverted old man gazing at a stunning teenager. He swallowed thickly when he noticed her long, shining, hair. A thick braid ran off one of her shoulders while two more pieces of loose hair framed the area around her face, which her bangs delicately hid. Of what he could see of her she looked like a goddess.

He took a few steps forward, his breath held in the very center of his chest, and fought to swallow. She must have heard him coming because, after a moment, she looked up from her lap and blinked at the man now standing in front of her.

Uryu didn't care if his cheeks were pink or if he looked like he had just run a mile to get here. His eyes were now piercing hers. He could see that they were the color of rich chocolate. He had to fight not to lick his lips.

"Hello," he said, his voice making him sound winded.

"Hello," she replied, her own voice melodious while the tone was monotonous. He bet she could sing like an angel is she wanted to.

"My name is Uryu Ishida," he said, still as out-of-breath as when he first saw her, "I work in International Relations."

"Nemu Kurotsuchi," she said softly, her eyes meeting his with a quiet type of interest. "I'm filling in for Orhime Inoue today. I normally work down in Production and Management. Is there something I could help you with?"

Uryu could not believe his ears. How had this goddess worked in the exact same building as him yet he knew nothing about her? Maybe because she was already taken? He quickly looked down into her lap and sought an image of a glittering band of gold.

_Nothing. Oh thank God._

He blinked and looked again before glancing up at Ms. Kurostuchi's eyes. Her face was slightly pink and Uryu realized, belatedly of course, that he had just been staring, unbidden, at a woman's crotch for nearly thirty full seconds.

Not that he didn't have good reason, of course…

His jaw tightened and he colored, his throat simply dying to cough in embarrassment. He restrained himself and looked to the side. It was then that his eyes caught sight of something quite… unexpected.

"Are those… knitting needles?" He asked, gently reaching down to finger the soft, cottony, yarn she was using. He fought back a groan when he wondered if this was what her skin felt like.

"Yes," she answered, another and fuller blush coming around to her features, "I enjoy knitting very much. It relaxes me."

Uryu could have married her on the spot.

"Me too," he said, fighting back the overwhelming grin that threatened to take control of all of his facial expressions. "Sewing as well. Sometimes there's nothing like a few sharp needles and a bunch of fabric to cool a person off after a long day."

Her eyes widened and she nodded emphatically. "I think so too!" Her voice breaking away from its monotony and singing for a moment.

"Would you like to have dinner with me?" The words sprang out of his mouth before he could stop them but once they were out, Uryu found that he simply couldn't take them back. So what if he was being impetuous, rude, and far too bold? He had to snatch her up before someone else did!

After all, wasn't he only following his own advice? He was getting over Orihime Inoue—_who?_ His brain demanded after a moment—and this… this… perfect female sitting in front of him was just… was just…

There were no words.

How long had it been since he had even looked at a woman and felt his heart speed up? Sure, blushes were common with Ms. Inoue but never had his chest pounded like this. He felt like a teenager again. He finally felt his cool mask of indifference falling away, revealing a breathless, limitless, feeling of pure desire.

The moment his blurted statement registered in her mind her expression was one of bewilderment. After a moment a worried look crossed her beautiful features and she frowned, looking in disappointment back to her needles, "I-I'm afraid I can't."

Did his heart just break? If this all-consuming, dreadful, earth-shattering, feeling was heartbreak then he was sure he was experiencing it.

"Why?" He asked numbly, willing her answer to be something along the lines of _'I have a stitch n' bitch I have to go to tonight. But you're welcome to come along!'_ Yet, on the bright side, she wasn't calling security on him. If their positions had been reversed he most certainly would not have tolerated some stranger hitting on him and all of a sudden asking him out to dinner.

She looked up at him dubiously. "Have you ever met my father?"

"Is that a yes?" He demanded, tossing her comment aside and praying to whatever God was out there that she wouldn't call security to have them remove a "persistent pervert."

Her eyes opened in shock and her mouth parted ever so slightly. Uryu found himself wanting to kiss those lips of hers. They looked like flower petals.

_Wow… this is… rather intense._

She frowned at him and pointed her bare knitting needle at him, "Have you… ever met… my father?" Her voice put more emphasis on the words and she punctuated it with a question mark drawn in the air with her needle.

"Is that… a… yes?" Uryu demanded, leaning forward on the desk until his nose was only a breath away from the extended needle.

Her eyes—which had started to go even wider—suddenly filled with warm delight.

"That's a yes," she said, a small smile starting on her beautiful face, "I get off at six."

"I'll pick you up then."

"It's your funeral."

Uryu only smiled a dashing smile and quickly grabbed her hand, he brought it to his mouth and gently pressed a kiss to the exposed knuckles, she started slightly but kept her position in her chair. Her expression was one of amazement and her cheeks flamed slightly.

Uryu could hardly believe what he was doing himself but he pushed that thought out of his mind immediately. He looked up at her and grinned what he hoped was a wickedly handsome grin, "If it means one night in the pleasure of your company, Ms. Nemu Kurotsuchi, nothing would make me happier."

*~*~*

Orihime ran into her apartment, tossed her bag to the side, sprinted into her kitchen, and grappled for the phone. She pulled it off of its stand and immediately began to punch in the numbers she had long-since memorized. She was breathless as the phone began to ring.

Shakily, she raised a hand to her lips and touched them with her fingertips. She could still taste Mr. Kurosaki's sweetness on them. Greedily, she brought her tongue out and licked every part of her mouth that she could reach. She then brought her hands to her nose and breathed in deeply. Her fingers were coated in the scent of his hair. Oh… now her hand smelled like strawberries and wine! She knew Mr. Kurosaki would smell just as heavenly as he looked. So wonderful… but still so manly! Oh _so_ manly.

The phone connected and a man on the other end of the line answered, "Ms. Inoue?"

She was breathless as she asked, "Did you get what you needed?"

"I did," the toneless man responded, "Excellent work. Now all you need to do is wait… patiently. Is that understood?"

"Perfectly," she said, her throat working hard to swallow.

The phone disconnected at once. Orihime took it away from her ear, held it in the air like a trophy, and let loose a shriek, "Yes! Yes, yes, yes! Oh! Yes! I did it, I did it, I did it, I did it!" Her large breasts bounced in the air as she leaped up and down. Her hair swirled around her body as she twirled inside of her living room.

"Oh!" She cried, her heart feeling like it was about to explode, "Oh _finally_! I've waited for so _long_!"

She threw the phone onto the couch and pressed her hands to her still-tingling lips. She couldn't believe it! She was actually going to have Mr. Kurosaki! And soon too!

She giggled gaily as she skipped about her room. She had played her part very well. All of that shit about wanting to be friends! Ha! He had actually believed her! He actually had! But then again, that was to be expected, her old high school drama teacher had told her that she had a flair for the dramatics and was an _excellent_ actress. And the crying on the spot? If that hadn't melted his heart right away!

She twirled three times in a circle, imagining that she was being held by Mr. Kurosaki, when a stray thought brought her twirling to an end. Her smile dropped and an ugly grimace took its place. She began pacing the room and frowned.

The only thing she hated was that she actually had to admit that she knew about him and that whore.

And he _hadn't_ denied it.

Orihime's face clouded instantaneously and she felt a growl grow her throat. That had been the only snag about this little skit of hers. She just _had_ to bring up the whore. The bitch. The tease. The _slut_. He hadn't even denied it either, he had just said 'what' like some sort of horrified schoolboy.

She stopped pacing, allowed a smile to overcome her features, and suddenly resumed her twirling.

Orihime giggled as she moved about the room. She could practically imagine Ichigo being a schoolboy. Oh that deliciously tight uniform!

But still, she could only imagine that he had looked like that—when she had brought up the slut—because he was ashamed of being with her. He probably hated her and wanted to end it. Orihime's eyes darkened when she thought of that whore trapping Mr. Kurosaki into a relationship he didn't want to be in. No doubt she used her position as a Kuchiki to try to force him to stay by her side.

Not anymore.

"Soon," she sang into her empty apartment, "Soon Mr. Kurosaki… I'll take you away from her! You and I will be so _happy_ together!" She pressed a hand to her mouth and giggled wildly. "After all," she cried, twirling around the room and running her hands sensually down her voluptuous body. She spoke only to herself as she said, "I'm everything that she isn't!"

Her ramblings continued as she thought:

_Soon._

**(A/N: And the plot thickens. Can you just hear the **_**Jaws**_** theme song playing in the background? Insert evil laughter.**

**Also, I know that IshiNemu might be weird for some people… but honestly, I want Ishida to get with someone and since Inoue is a psycho… insert smiley! Deal.**

**I hope everyone enjoyed this chapter! I'll try and keep updating on a weekly basis from here on out although it might get a bit tough!**

**PLEASE DON'T FORGET TO REVIEW!!!)**


	37. Chapter 36

**Disclaimer: I do not own Bleach or any Bleach affiliates.**

_**Odalisque**_

**Chapter 36**

The phone on her desk began to ring but Rukia ignored it. The shrill, piercing, cry hurled itself against her ears and she grimaced. Its petulance would have annoyed Rukia in any other circumstance.

But right now… it made her nervous.

"You know who it is," she muttered to herself, her hand poised over the arm of the phone. "Don't seem too eager. He can wait a few more rings."

_Can you?_

Her fingertips lightly brushed the top part of it and she shuddered lightly before looking over at the clock. It was only a little after two thirty. That alone let her know that it was most likely her pseudo-boyfriend on the line. She bit her lip and frowned. Still… if he had left with Inoue around twelve thirty... she swallowed and frowned again.

_How far away did she live again?_

She shook her head violently to shove out any unwanted thoughts. On the fourth ring, she lowered her hand enough to grip the phone and slowly slid it off of the cradle.

"Rukia Kuchiki speaking," she said in a softly confident voice.

"_Thank fucking God!_"

A smile curled onto her face and a warm feeling fell into the pit of her stomach, "Hello Ichigo," she said, not even trying to keep the grin out of her voice.

"You have no idea what I've been through in the past two hours!" He groaned, Rukia listened a bit more and thought she heard a radio in the background. A car beeped distantly as well, confirming her suspicions.

"Are you driving?" She demanded, leaning back in her chair and frowning, "Because driving when you're agitated and talking on the phone is just going to get you killed."

"Thank you for the concern," he spat out bitterly. "But right now I think I'd welcome death, or _at least_ a new car."

"Really?" She rolled her eyes, "You're going to go as far as that? Ichigo, she _sat_ in your car, she didn't have sex in it."

_She'd better not. Or else someone is not going to see the light of day tomorrow._

Rukia could have hit herself in the head for that comment her brain dredged up. She knew that Ichigo would never touch Inoue like that. That just… well, it went against the laws of nature.

"Please don't put that imagery in my head. The only one who can have sex in my car is you…" he paused for a moment and Rukia raised an eyebrow. There was a slight pause before Ichigo grunted. "With me participating, of course," he added gruffly and she had to bite back a chuckle, it was as if he had been reading her mind.

"I'd gladly acquiesce," she grinned, "However, right now I am still at work and you are in your car going… somewhere." She tried not to sound like that thought bothered her.

"I'm coming back to the office," he stated bluntly and Rukia could have sworn that she heard a rather angry horn beeping in the background.

She frowned, "What? Why?"

"Because," he grunted and Rukia heard tires squealing, "Aizen gave me the rest of the day off. I'm not taking it without you."

Her heart started thudding wildly inside of her ribcage and she had to fight to swallow just so she wouldn't squeak on the phone. "But Mr. Aizen didn't give _me_ the day off, just you."

"So? I said I'm not taking it without you. We're part of a team, aren't we? If one part is gone then the other should be too. If Mr. Aizen wants to give me the day off he should give it to you too just so you don't sit there doing all of _my _work."

"I do all of your work anyway," Rukia told him in amusement. He snarled through the phone and she laughed. "Just kidding Ichigo… I could either kiss or kick you right now," Rukia said, a wicked grin growing on her face.

"I'd prefer the former," he sighed and she heard his car come to a squeaky stop. "The way I see it we can go do whatever the hell we want right now. Alright, I'm in the underground parking lot. Come out right now."

"I don't know," Rukia mused, teasing him purposefully but acting like it was the most serious thing in the world. "Leaving work early just doesn't seem _right_ to me."

"Rukia…" he growled.

She had to fight back a hilarious laugh but continued nonetheless, "I mean, consider the example we'd be setting for our other coworkers if they knew. The office policy strictly prohibits interoffice relationships."

"We don't work for the same companies," Ichigo pointed out, "As of right now, you work for Gotei Corp. and I work for Suigetsu Inc. We're not violating anything. And as for coworkers finding out, unless you told anyone then we should be safe."

Her heart started to soar when she noticed that he hadn't refuted the fact that they were in a relationship.

"I don't know Ichigo," she said monotonously, "Maybe it was that day we had desk sex. You _do_ tend to sound like a howler monkey when you come."

"If you do not get your ass down here in less than ten minutes I will come up and drag you away from that room."

She raised both of her eyebrows at the blatant threat in his voice but fought back a grin. She didn't think she'd ever heard Ichigo's voice get _that_ menacing before. It even made her a bit… well, _proud_ to know that she could make him sound like that. The fact that he could want her _so_ much that he'd threaten to drag her out of an office just so he could take her home and have his way with her was… amazing.

"I'll be down in ten." She assured him with a smile.

"Good," he grumbled, "Because I need you in this car soon. You need to wash away the Inoue aftertaste."

After… _taste_?

"See you soon," Rukia said, hanging up the phone quickly and grappling for whatever materials she would need for the weekend. She stuffed some papers, her laptop, and a few folders into her bag and hurriedly pulled on her jacket. She turned towards the door and opened it in one swift motion. She turned off the light, crossed over the threshold, and pulled the door shut behind her.

A wicked grin came over her features as she made her way out into the corridor. She sort of felt like a spy. She felt like she was sneaking out of an office after stealing valuable company information and going to meet her secret contact for an intimate rendezvous. She held in a chuckle as she clutched the strap of her bag even tighter and quickly made her way down the hallway. As she moved, she looked over towards the secretary's desk and glanced at the woman behind it. To her everlasting surprise, Nemu Kurotsuchi wasn't alone. Uryu Ishida was sitting with her, talking, laughing, and… sweet Jesus… was he _blushing_? Rukia stopped on her way and craned her neck to look over the small table to see what they were doing.

Her jaw tightened so as to keep her from bursting out into giggles. Even from this far away she could see that the two of them were having their very own private stitch n' bitch.

"At a desk, no less," she muttered, ripping her eyes away from the two and moving down the hall towards the elevator. She entered it swiftly and pressed the button before anyone else could board as well. "Although," she continued, "Ichigo and I did far worse on _his_ desk."

_I just hope Uryu Ishida and that Nemu girl is don't start doing it in _that_ desk. That's a bit _too_ public._

She watched the indicator lights in the elevator take her down, down, and down even more until the only floor left to go to was the underground parking lot. She quickly stepped out of the elevator doors before they were even fully open and immediately began looking around for a black Benz. She spotted it instantly—seeing as it was parked only ten feet away from her—and grinned. Ichigo turned as she began walking forward and reached over to the passenger side. He pushed the door open with one hand and Rukia slid in fluidly.

"Thank God," Ichigo muttered as she tugged the door closed. The hand that had opened the door had lingered on the seat and was now grappling for the back of her neck.

Before Rukia could even start to think of forming some sort of protest Ichigo's lips were prying hers apart and his tongue was delving deep into her mouth. Her toes immediately curled in her shoes, her stomach instantly began quivering, and her hands latched themselves onto the undone collar of his shirt right away.

He groaned into her mouth and viciously dragged her tongue into himself. His teeth bit at her lips and his thumb stroked the sensitive skin on the back of her neck. Rukia felt her center start throbbing with familiarly sudden heat and quickly slid her hand up underneath the exposed collar of his shirt. Her nails raked down the warmth of his skin and longed to undo the rest of his buttons.

"Ichi—Ichigo," Rukia murmured, in between his frantic kisses, "We—We're in a car. P-Parking lot… ah!"

"Tinted windows," he growled into her neck and bit a sensitive spot on her clavicle.

She gasped into him and instantly curled an arm around his entire neck, her fingers digging into his hair. "God I want you."

"Good," he panted as he dragged her other hand towards him. "The feeling is mutual."

She whimpered as he continued to shower her neck with kisses. He tugged relentlessly on her second hand while the first proceeded to dig its fingernails into his scalp. After a second of slight confusion, Rukia found where he was pulling her hand. She gasped as she felt his rock-hard erection pressing through his pants and groaned at the thought of him wanting her so much.

"Touch me," he groaned, bringing both hands back to her face and bringing her mouth to his with feverish urgency. Rukia's stunned mind could barely comprehend what was going on but she knew that right now she needed to do what he said. She needed to feel his desire for her. Needed to… and wanted to.

Her hand stroked him through the thickness of his pants and he groaned loudly into her mouth. Christ he felt so good, he tasted so good… this was just him. Ichigo and his carnal desire for her.

_Is that all it's ever going to be?_ A reasonable voice in the back of her head sourly mumbled, obviously irritated at being so blatantly ignored. She pushed it aside and told herself that she didn't need to be concerned with things like that. In time, everything would be sorted out, she didn't need answers right now.

_But you want them._

She moved her hand over his entire length and took sadistic delight in watching him shiver under her touch. She always loved how she could make him weak with only a few of her caresses.

She sighed into him and allowed her other hand to slip to the back of his neck and play with the tiny strands of orange hair at the nape. His grip on her tightened and tightened until they were fastened together so intensely that Rukia scarcely thought that someone could slide a single piece of paper between them.

She moaned and fought the urge to continue kissing him. She didn't know about Ichigo but she wasn't quite prepared to have sex in his car—even if it was to erase all of Inoue's evil essence. Gently, she pulled her hand away from his growing cock and eased her fingers around his persistent hands—one of them now groping her breast and making her want to scream—in order to pull them off.

"Stop Ichigo," she gasped, surprised at how hoarse her voice sounded, even to her ears.

"Rukia…" he growled, pressing kisses to her cheeks and trying to escape from the iron-bound prison of her hands.

"Take me home," she whispered into his ear, her voice husky at the thought of spending the weekend with him. "Take me to your home, Ichigo, and you can have me."

He groaned and pressed his forehead against her collarbone. Rukia wound her arms around his exposed neck and back and slowly pulled him into a tight hug. His hands were snaking their way around her waist in a possessive yet thrilling embrace.

"My house," he muttered against her skin, "You naked, me naked, and tons of sex. I'm going to make sure you can't move for a month."

"Sounds perfect," she said, a slight snicker in her voice, "But just so you know, the not moving for a month thing works both ways.

He chuckled darkly, "Yeah right Miss I-Pass-Out-During-Sex."

"Bite me Ichigo Kurosaki."

He raised his head from her shoulder and allowed a wicked smirk to overcome his features, "Gladly Rukia Kuchiki… and you know I'll do it in more places than one."

Rukia pressed a kiss to his lips and nodded as she murmured, "Just shut up and drive, Kurosaki."

He breathed in deeply and tugged his hands away from her until they were resting—rather tightly—on the wheel. He put his car into drive but suddenly shoved the gearshift back into park.

"Ichigo," Rukia groaned, "Don't start groping me again, please. I'd be more than happy to once we were at your apartment but—"

"It's not that," he muttered, twisting his body so that he could reach into the backseat and pull out his briefcase. He brought it into his lap—he immediately hissed when it settled on his erection harder than he had planned—and clicked it open.

"Here," he muttered, tugging out a manila folder and shoving it into her hands.

Rukia raised both eyebrows and felt her jaw drop just a smidge. "Ah… you're actually thinking about work at a time like this?"

"Aizen needed it," he muttered, hurriedly finding a pen and unscrewing the cap for her. He shoved it into her hands and motioned to the paper. "It's an order form for new desks, chairs, staplers… shit like that. I just need you to sign it. I told him I'd get it to him by today."

"Oh," Rukia said, her mind slowly treading from its lustful mindset to the more appropriate business approach. She began to flip through the pages but wrinkled her nose when she realized she was so unfocused that she could barely read it.

Ichigo groaned beside her and instantly leaned over, nipping on the sensitive cords of her neck, "Just sign it," he whispered seductively, brushing her hair away from her ear and blowing hotly on her throat. "It's nothing important."

Rukia _wished_ she could sign it. Her hand was shaking so badly.

"S-St-op…" she groaned, "I c-can't hold the p-pen."

He chuckled darkly and continued kissing her neck, "You've held bigger things than this in your hands when you're aroused … just sign it Rukia."

She instantly flipped to the last page and scrawled her name across the paper, her eyes fuzzy with desire.

"Here," she gasped, giving him the paper and utilizing all of her will so as not to throw herself at him and take him in the car, "There… j-just drive."

He withdrew his lips from her neck instantly and snickered lightly. She glared at him and knew that sooner or later—probably sooner since they _were _going to his place to have sex—he was going to pay.

Ichigo shoved the gears into drive and screeched towards the exit. On the way out he stopped by the parking attendant and handed the man the manila folder and a fifty dollar bill.

"Make sure this gets to Sosuke Aizen, top floor, alright?" He said, his voice giving no room for argument.

The man sighed, took both the money and the folder, and waved them through.

Ichigo was off like a shot with Rukia sitting beside him.

*~*~*

They were at his apartment in less than seven minutes. An incredible feat considering the drive was well over fifteen.

They took the elevator up from the parking garage. Only when they were actually inside the elevator did Rukia realize how stupid she'd been to think that they wouldn't start making out as soon as the doors closed. But Ichigo still had not gotten any smaller from his time driving—a fact which Rukia was happy to admit was mostly her fault, seeing as how she had continually stroked him as he handled the wheel. It had nearly gotten them killed… twice… but she had enjoyed it way too much to care—and was rather insistent about thrusting her up against the wall and delving a hand into her underwear.

"Shit Ichigo," Rukia groaned breathlessly as she felt his fingers playing with the hemline of her panties. "Anyone could come in right now."

"I'll tell them to get lost," he assured even as his mouth hungrily sought her breast through her shirt.

She instantly curled her hands around him and let a long, airy, moan escape from her throat.

"Why does it always feel this good?" She hissed as two of his fingers pushed aside her unwanted underwear and entered her slick passage.

"Why does… wh… what?" He gasped, his voice muffled by the cotton of her shirt and the softness of her skin. She didn't know how he had done it, but a few of her buttons were undone, giving Ichigo access to her milky skin.

"When you… o_h_ Ichi_go_… when you t-touch me," she dug her nails into Ichigo's shoulders and prayed for the type of release that only he could bring. His fingers were swirling around in her slick depths, brushing her clitoris with every undulating motion, swerving in and out over and over again. He moved his fingers back and forth, his thumb toying with her lips and his other hand cupping the underside of her ass, clenching and releasing. This was all too much. She felt like she would not be able to contain herself and longer. She wanted him so badly.

She _needed_ him.

Her orgasm came in a flurry of emotions and sensations. She must have screamed or something similar because afterwards her throat felt like she had spent the last few hours swallowing sand.

But her body… the feeling was incredible. Oh, how was it that Ichigo could make her feel like an erupting volcano every time they were together? How could he make her come like a geyser and scream like a banshee whenever he wanted?

_He must have given his soul to someone,_ she mused drowsily as she clung to her lover, it felt like he was moving… or something._ He's too good at all of this. It's not possible to be this good._

After a few moments resting in the dizzy haze of her afterglow, her body slumped over Ichigo's, Rukia lifted her head from her perch on Ichigo's shoulder and realized that they were no longer in the elevator.

"Shit," she gasped, feeling his fingers toying with the outside of her opening while he pressed her to the wall nearest to the inside of his door.

In his apartment.

"How di-did you g-get me in your-r ap-partment w-without me no… noticing?" She cursed herself for not being able to speak properly and tried not to scowl. His fingers continued their calmingly relentless pursuit and she moaned against him.

He chuckled darkly and tightened his free arm around the waist that was propping her against the wall and his body. His voice was seductive and dark in her ear as he whispered. "You were wrapped around me so tightly I could take one hand off of you to get my keys."

Rukia groaned and cursed him for having such acute verbal skills, a trait which had always semi-annoyed her while in the bedroom. Ichigo always seemed to be able to maintain both his vocabulary and his voice them whenever they were together... while Rukia always lost hers a few seconds in.

"Now…" he whispered, gently stroking her in a way which made her entire body feel numb, "what did you mean about this feeling so good?"

Did moaning to him count as an adequate response, she wondered blearily as she placed kiss after kiss on his strong and straining neck. She knew he was holding back. He was trying to give her a moment to adjust before ravaging her like a beast—not that she minded either way of course. But she smiled into his skin and sighed when his hand began to smooth over the curves of her buttocks.

_Thank God I chose the thong today,_ Rukia thought as he gently caressed the smooth skin.

"Rukia?"

"Hm?" She murmured before fighting to roll her eyes. Oh right, his question. Or, more accurately, her question. She was actually kind of surprised that he was waiting for her to answer. Normally, when he wanted to have her, he took her without a second thought. But now… it was like he really wanted to know just what she was thinking. The thought warmed her body from the tip of her head to the very base of her toes and she loved him for making her feel this fuzzy and warm. She moved upwards to bite his earlobe and grinned into the nibble, feeling her strength—as well as her arousal—growing the longer he allowed her to rest.

"What did you mean—?"

"About it feeling so good?" Rukia whispered, sending shivers down Ichigo's back—she could _feel_ every one of them as well. She chuckled darkly in a manner that would have made him proud and ran her tongue along the line of his ear. "Ichigo… whenever you touch me, it feels like the first time you _ever_ touched me, spearing me against your kitchen sink, remember?"

"_Oh_ yeah," he groaned, beginning to grind his lower body into hers. She could feel his hardness pressing through his pants and knew that he was just as aroused as she. "But it was the island, not the sink."

"Same difference," she growled into him, "My point is… in all the time we've been seeing each other," her voice broke up into pants as his grinding became more intense, "I've never even thought… of doing something differently… or finding someone else. Every single time you… you touch me, Ichigo Kurosaki… it feels like that very first time."

"I can… say…" he panted, his face buried in her neck, licking and biting and kissing feverishly, "The exact… same… _thing_."

Rukia's heart didn't have time to leap for joy before Ichigo dropped her unceremoniously onto her feet and began tearing at her clothing. She took the hint and immediately began to participate. He leaned down to capture her mouth and together, they resumed their furious oral battle. Her skin burned as it connected with every part of his and she could only assume that his did the same. If the way he was moaning into their kiss was any type of sign.

Together, they moved backwards and tumbled onto Ichigo's living room carpet. His body fell first and he caught her as she toppled breathlessly onto him. On one side the fireplace lay cold and empty while on the other the couch sat listlessly, simply waiting to be used. It was not to be now though. Right now they couldn't confine themselves to a couch or a bed. They needed to roll on the floor. They needed to feel all of each others' stretched out bodies. They needed to spread themselves as far as they could possibly go just for the sake of the pleasure of their partner.

Rukia rolled on top of him and panted hard. Her body was shaking as it slid against his. He was writhing beneath her. She felt so powerful in this dominant position. His sweating face was tossing from side to side and his hips were jerking upwards, dying to be inside of her. Only a second later, she acquiesced. She drew him so deeply inside of her that she felt nothing but absolute and complete fulfillment. A sharp cry rang through her throat as she took a moment just to soak him in. Her knees were rubbing harshly against the carpet and the next morning she would probably have burns but she didn't care. He felt so _good_ inside of her.

The beat of her heart played inside of her chest like some type of music she had forgotten to turn off. Soon it became throbbing and harsh. It resonated inside of her, pulsating in time with her erratic breathing and her burning insides.

"Shit _yes_," Ichigo groaned, his fingers gripping her hard. "Move Rukia… _ugh_… _move_."

Rukia felt her lips curling into a smile and bent down to slide her tongue around his neck. She lightly sucked on his Adam's apple and felt it bob up and down. She groaned happily and jerked up and down on his erection. The way she was angled against his body made sure that his engorged shaft brushed her clit with every motion.

"God Ichigo," she gasped, shaking violently as she felt one of his hands slide up her body and palm her heaving breasts. "You make me feel so _good_."

He surged upwards and captured her mouth with his. Rukia gasped wildly as her naked chest collided with his. Through his tight muscle and beautiful skin she could feel his heart pounding with the tenacity of a jackhammer. Her own heart increased in tempo and his arms snaked around her body. Rukia's arms were squashed between them as her hands grasped his neck. She felt his pulse inside of his straining and strong neck. She feverishly kissed him as he jerked his hips. His cock pummeled inside of her as she slid up and down. Her body was on fire. Her sensitive nipples were rubbing against his hard chest and her mouth was fighting desperately with his.

Ichigo's hands were not idle either. One of them quickly flashed up her sweat-coated body and palmed her waiting, tender, breast. The other was curled around her entire body, sliding between her cheeks, and locating the sensual collection of nerves inside of her. He stroked it as his cock pulled inside of her. The combination of his finger and his erection was making her tremble and moan.

Ichigo panted hard, "So _wet_… Rukia." He felt her walls clamping down upon him and groaned as a fresh wave of her juices fell over him. "How did you get so _wet_?"

Rukia's entire form shuddered violently as she came. Her body felt like it was on fire. Her legs became jelly as she tried to continue her motions. She wanted Ichigo to have the same release she was having.

"Y-You," she choked out, sliding both of her arms around his shoulders. Her face buried itself into his neck and she groaned as she felt herself being thrown into another orgasm. Ichigo Kurosaki was the only man she knew who could bring her two orgasms during one round of sex.

But this… this wasn't just sex. This was something more. Something much more. Something she wasn't sure she wanted to recognize right now… not when she felt so safe in his arms. Mentioning this… it could bring forth a type of danger she couldn't deal with. She trembled and felt her throat closing up on her. She inhaled deeply and shook at his spicy and sweaty scent.

_I love you._

She bit her lips so she didn't say it out loud.

Ichigo shuddered; his entire body shook against hers as he came. He pushed his face into her neck and tried to muffle his scream of pleasure. Rukia gripped him tightly and wound her hands into his hair. She tightened her fingers and held on as tightly as she could. Her energy waned in the post-coital glow and she groaned when she felt his arms wrap tightly around her body.

Without saying another word, Ichigo flopped down onto the carpet, Rukia still clutched in his arms.

His fingers threaded through her hair and he pressed a kiss to her forehead.

Her lids were heavy and her body was numb. She just felt so weak… so warm… so _loved._

She moaned happily and slowly moved so that Ichigo could slide out of her. He grunted at the loss of the warmth but let out a small, contented, huff, when she came back to lie on his entire body. Her head rested on his chest and she listened to the erratically calming beat.

After a few moments he reached over to the couch and pulled off a dejected blanket. She sighed happily as Ichigo draped it over them.

"Sleep," he groaned, his hands tracing patterns over her back.

"Hmm," she nodded. "You too…"

"Yeah," he mumbled."

Rukia sighed and fell asleep on his chest, her mind entirely focused on the beat of his heart.

*~*~*

When Rukia woke up her body was still pleasantly warm. A low moan escaped from her throat and she slowly moved her leaden hands to her face. Her fingers found her eyes and she gently rubbed them until her sleepiness was only an afterthought in her mind. She blinked twice and took a minute to get her bearings. She sighed and curled her fingers into the softness beneath her. She lifted her head and smiled when she saw that it was not a rough carpet and a tangled blanket underneath of her body, but rather soft and silken sheets and blankets. She grinned and rubbed her face against them, feeling the gentleness; it felt like she was sleeping on feathers.

Her naked body slid against the sheets as she stretched slowly and sensually. Another smile curled on her face as she twisted onto her back. The blanket slid off of her skin and her breasts were exposed to the air, her nipples puckering slightly in the cool room. Still unmindful of her surroundings, Rukia closed her eyes, spread her legs, and stretched out all of the kinks underneath of her skin. A happy sigh escaped her throat.

"You might want to stop doing that." A husky voice came from a few feet above her.

Rukia didn't even need to open her eyes to know who it was. She smiled gently and continued stretching. "Why?" She demanded, her voice quiet and teasing.

A low chuckle came from him and she tilted her head as she heard him come down from his spot on the couch. He leaned his torso over hers and pressed a kiss to the very center of her chest.

"Because," he sighed, moving his face up to hers, "You are too much of a seductress for your own good."

She grinned and kissed his lips as his head came back towards hers.

"I have something for you," he whispered as he played with her mouth.

Rukia giggled, "Is it big, smooth, and fits inside of me perfectly?"

"Afraid not," he grinned, "But I do have two glasses and a bottle of freshly opened champagne."

Rukia sighed and playfully rolled her eyes, "That'll do _too_."

"Excellent," Ichigo murmured as he kissed her chastely. Swiftly, he stretched his body so that he was lying beside her. He reached over to the small table beside the couch and pulled off two glasses of champagne. With delicate movements, Ichigo handed one to Rukia and kept the other for himself. She smiled softly and moved to sit up. Gently, they clinked their glasses together and took sips. The sheet over Rukia's breasts slid down as she moved her arm upwards but she did nothing to rectify the situation.

Ichigo's breathing hitched and he groaned, pressing his forearm against his eyes, "And apparently you enjoy playing the seductress."

"Perhaps I do," Rukia murmured, leaning forward and pressing a kiss to his neck. "Don't tell me you're averse to the role."

"Hell no," he said, finding a way to wrap an arm around her tiny waist. "But right now I wanted to talk to you about something."

Suddenly, the warm, fuzzy, loving feeling in Rukia's stomach dropped away. Her toes and fingers became numb. Her head began to spin—and not from the alcohol. She went stiff immediately in his arms.

_Oh. God._

Was this some sort of goodbye? Was he doing it nicely because he didn't want to hurt her feelings? Was the champagne some sort of commiseration gift?

_Hey, yeah, sorry I've been fucking you senseless for the past few months, but… ah… I want it to end, got it? Take the champagne as compensations. Hey—what? You knew what this was. Other fish in the sea, babe._

Her mind whirled and—while she knew that Ichigo would never actually say something like that because, well, honestly, he'd never call her babe—the fear growing inside of her didn't slow down. Plus, she doubted Ichigo would ever say something as cliché as "there are other fish in the sea."

"You alright?" He asked, pressing his chin down onto her stiff shoulder.

"Fine," Rukia squeaked, downing the champagne in her glass in one swig.

She turned her heating cheeks so she couldn't see Ichigo blink at her in confusion. He cleared his throat and motioned to the champagne bottle. "Ah… more?"

"Yep." Her answer was immediate. If he was going to break up with her she was going to be toasted when he did it. Maybe then it wouldn't hurt as much.

Ichigo frowned softly at her and refilled her glass from the chilled bottle nearby. He sat slowly against the couch and gently tugged her along. He waited until his legs were on either side of her body and she was fitted snuggly between them. He wound his arm around her waist and loosely allowed his other arm to loll near the floor.

Rukia's heart pounded in her chest and she hoped to God that he couldn't feel it. Christ… she shouldn't even be this nervous. She… she… she wasn't nervous. She wasn't nervous at all. This would not be like last time. She would not be hurt. She would not allow herself to be wounded.

"How long have we been sleeping together?" He asked, his voice laid back and calm.

Rukia swallowed, he was being so suave about all of this. How could he be like this when he was going to break up with her? Was this how he broke up with all of his other women? Having sex with them, giving them champagne, and snuggling with them in front of a lit fireplace—_when did he light that? Why didn't I notice right away?_—right before he dropped the bomb?

"About four months." She answered squeakily.

"And we've known each other for what?" He continued, "About… seven? Eight months?"

Rukia felt cold all over her body. It didn't matter that Ichigo was warm and alive behind her or that the fire was crackling and bright in front of her. She just felt so _cold_.

_Please don't let me cry. Whatever happens please don't let me cry._

"I know that in the beginning, we said that this… ah, arrangement, would be completely no-strings-attached. I thought that was great, you know… but…"

_But now he knows… I've shown too many signs. He knows how I feel about him. Damn, I knew I should've kept being a bitch to him. Being nice only made him suspect what I was really feeling! Damn it! Why was I so stupid?_

His arms tightened around her. "But I was thinking…"

Rukia breathed in deeply and prepared for the worst. _Please don't let me cry._

"Rukia…"

She shut her eyes.

"I'd like to take you on a date."

Her eyes snapped open. _Huh?_

She swiveled in his arms and couldn't help the frown that came to her face. Ichigo was looking away while a light pink color dusted his cheeks. She swallowed and glanced over to the arm that was currently holding his champagne glass. His hand was clenching it so tightly that she thought he might break the stem.

_Apparently I'm not the only one's who's a bit tense._

She smiled gently and allowed one of her hands to come up and rest on his chest, directly over his heart. It was pounding right now. Just like hers.

The panic immediately faded from her body, leaving her with Ichigo and his beautiful warmth.

"Really?" She murmured, still only half-believing that this was happening.

His cheeks became redder and he brought his head down to look at her. "Well… yeah, and I mean a date like… not just sex-buddies having a bite to eat. I-I mean like a real date. Like… I pick you up and you're all dressed up and we have snooty waiters giving us wine lists and… and we go out to places where we won't have to hide the fact that we like each other." He looked down at her with penetrating eyes. "Because, you know, the merger is going to be done soon. We won't be partners after that. We can date officially, you and me, we don't have to… pretend."

_Pretend?_ Rukia's mind gasped as her eyes bore holes into his. _Pretend we don't have the same feelings for one another? Is that what he means?_

Then she remembered…

_Date officially._

"You… want me to be your girlfriend." She said in an embarrassingly breathless voice.

He blushed even harder, "You don't have to act so surprised. I mean… Rukia, I think we fit together well, and no, I don't mean _just_ sexually. Although you have to admit, the sex is awesome."

"Um yes," she said, as if it were the most obvious thing in the entire world. She swallowed the rest of her champagne in one gulp and set the glass gently down on the table beside her.

Ichigo also swallowed the rest of his—although he seemed to do it more out of nerves than anything else. Rukia just wanted to get hers out of the way.

"So," he choked, his eyes nervously dancing with hers. "Is that a yes?"

_He's nervous… oh this is so cute._

Rukia reached over him and plucked the glass from his hands, tossing it impatiently onto the soft carpet without bothering to see if it broke or anything. His eyes followed where it rolled before looking before him and staring blankly at Rukia.

She stood on her knees and cupped his face between her hands. A soft smile came over her face and, at the sight of it, Ichigo's own terse expression relaxed.

"That's a yes," she said clearly, so there was no miscommunication between the two of them, "I would love to go out with you, Ichigo Kurosaki. On a _real _date."

"Thank God," he breathed, curling his arms around her.

"Although," she murmured, running her lips up and down his neck, he shuddered at the action even though his body stiffened slightly at her words. "You do know that it's against female policy to have sex at the end of a first date, right?"

He groaned and shook his head, his nose wrinkling into her skin. "You're trying to kill me, aren't you?"

"Well, if you can technically die from having an enormously huge libido twenty four seven, then maybe."

"How many _dates_ do we have to go on before I can touch you again?" He demanded, pulling her mouth away from his neck and staring at her with a disgruntled frown.

Rukia's eyebrows shot up and she shook her head, "Touch me? Well of course you can _touch_ me."

He looked at her with suspicious eyes, "Do you mean holding your arm and pulling out chairs and stuff like that?" He scoffed, "Because _I _meant something completely different."

"I never said that heavy petting was forbidden," she reasoned stiffly, fighting to keep her face still. "I just said that _sex_ wasn't allowed."

"Until when?"

Rukia heaved a sarcastic and exasperated sigh while running her fingers through Ichigo's soft hair. "Oh well… since we do have standing precedent, I'd say… at _least_ the second date."

Ichigo's smirk fell into place and he tugged her body tightly against his, "I think I can manage that. So long as we have one date right after the next."

"Done," Rukia grinned, "Now I say we celebrate the way we do best."

"My little seductress," he said, smiling as she brought her mouth to his, silently rejoicing at his possessive term.

There they lay, their passion overflowing on the carpet, the fire roaring in the hearth, and their moans captured by one another's mouths. They were at peace, both of their hearts swelling with happiness.

They could never have expected what was to come.

**(A/N: Oh… sweetness.**

**Thank you to everyone who has reviewed for this story! You're really making me happy! Plus, I laughed out loud when I heard that some of you read this story in class with your cell phones! :D That is **_**so**_** awesome! Just don't get caught by the teachers!**

**Sorry for the short chapter but… let's just say… the next chapter is… ah, **_**heavier.**_** In more ways than one. So I'll apologize in advance… Sorry.**

**PLEASE DON'T FORGET TO REVIEW!!!)**


	38. Chapter 37

**Disclaimer: I do not own Bleach or any Bleach affiliates.**

_**Odalisque**_

**Chapter 37**

Rukia could not remember a time when she had been this happy.

As she slowly awoke beside her lover—his hands clasped possessively around her waist—she tried to rack her brain to remember such a time… but couldn't. She smiled to herself happily and wiggled into him. She heard him groan sleepily behind her and her grin expanded even more. In one deft move she twisted in his arms and pressed her flat, warm, hands against his flat, muscled, chest.

Okay, so the dating rule hadn't really worked out the way she had planned. Although, after their little foray in front of the fireplace—which had lasted all night and a bit into the morning—Ichigo _had_ been considerate enough to decide to take her out to eat. Although she had insisted that she needed to return to her house to change and Ichigo begrudgingly acquiesced, putting on a casual suit himself. Ichigo had waited patiently in her living room while she had changed into a fire-engine red, slinky, dress, heels, and matching lipstick. It was only when she actually came out of the room that there had been a problem.

One look into each other's eyes and the two immediately knew that they were not leaving her apartment that night. In the end, Ichigo had cooked for her while she lounged—naked—on the couch, covered in only a light blanket. They ate while watching some random television show and had immediately resumed making exquisitely passionate love until they had fallen to sleep in the early hours of the morning.

All in all, it hadn't been what she was expecting but it wasn't like she hadn't enjoyed herself either. She reminded herself of this as she stared down at her sleeping lover… her sleeping boyfriend.

"Morning," she whispered, a smile still on her face, as she stroked her lips over his fluttering eyes, his twitching nose, and his tingling mouth.

He sighed and pulled her tighter to his body. His hand was beginning to stroke her backside and she shivered as she felt his second hand come down and grip her bottom.

"Good…" he began, the hand on her ass pulling her forward a bit and pressing her smooth bundle of curls against his own. "Morning," he ended, running his fingers over her skin. Rukia let a little moan escape her mouth and she pressed it against his.

His kiss was sleepy but hungry. He eagerly pried open her lips and set about exploring her mouth with his tongue. She giggled lightly in her throat and teased her own against his. It only took her a few more seconds for her to realize that Ichigo wanted something… _more_ this particular morning. If his kiss was any indication, that is.

Not two seconds later, he swiftly rolled on top of her and pressed his mouth to hers even harder. Her lips were tugged apart even more until Ichigo was no longer just _kissing_ her. He was ravaging her mouth. She moaned as his drowsy morning attitude floated away, leaving behind the raw voracity of need.

He ripped his mouth away from hers and quickly glanced over at the clock. Rukia—even through the haze of passion she was currently in—managed to turn her liquefied neck in that direction as well. The blinking numbers showcased that it was nearly quarter of six.

Ichigo grinned and turned back to Rukia, his mouth attacking hers once again. She groaned and tried to wake up enough so that she could duel with him as well.

"We have," he panted, pressed his already-hard erection against her already-wet bundle of curls. "Enough time… for a quickie in bed and… another one… in the shower."

"Excellent," Rukia whispered, even though she was quite sure that it came out more like an unintelligible gargle than anything else, seeing as how Ichigo's thick finger were now probing her sex.

"Hope you don't mind," he whispered into her breasts. Rukia was jolted slightly and tried to remember when he had gotten there. He hungrily sucked on one of her peaked nipples and she moaned, her fingers going directly to tightly grip his hair. She tried to pull her mind back to what he was saying but found that it was extremely difficult when he was touching her like this. "I don't really… feel like… _foreplay_…"

His face came from her breasts and hovered above hers, Rukia arched her back as she felt him move to kneel on the bed. She frowned and tried to drag him back down to where she was wet and waiting for him when she felt his hands come to the backs of her knees. She gasped when, in one smooth motion, he pulled her knees up so they hooked around his shoulders, and impaled her on his large shaft.

"Ichigo!" She shouted, her throat closing at the inexplicable feelings now coursing through her entire body. Her hands grappled wildly for the sheets and she clung onto them desperately.

His would-be-chuckle turned into a drawn-out groan that reached her ears and spanned through her entire body.

"So… _tight_…" he wheezed, pulling out of her and thrusting wildly back in.

Rukia saw white as she felt him jerking into her with such power. He really wasn't kidding about forgoing foreplay. She whimpered and wished that she could reach up and touch him, but in this lewd angle, she couldn't even keep her ass on the bedding. It wasn't particularly comfortable though. Her back was twisted at an odd angle and half of her body wasn't even touching the mattress… but considering that Ichigo was more than making up for it with his lustful strokes, gripping hands, and heavy pants she couldn't really find it in her to care.

Rukia didn't really know why, but her pussy felt so incredibly _tender_ right now. Each thrust that Ichigo pushed inside of her felt ten times more incredible than normal. Maybe it was because she had just woken up but she was certain that Ichigo could sense it too. He bit his bottom lip as he wildly propelled himself inside of her and Rukia keened. Her throat felt raw from moaning and giving off little shrieks of pleasure every few seconds.

She gasped and felt her body shuddering violently as Ichigo found a way to swivel his hips in delicious circles as he pushed inside of her. Rukia felt her fingers tearing at the silken sheets beneath her. Her lungs were heaving hard at the overwhelming sensation of Ichigo.

He turned his head and lightly bit the tender skin above her kneecap while one of his hands came to their intimate joining and began to rub her deliciously dripping pearl.

Rukia screamed and clutched the sheets even harder as his nimble touch hurled her into an orgasm. She clenched her eyes shut and fought not to pass out again, although the stars now appearing behind her lids were not a welcome premonition.

"_Ichigo!_" She moaned. He was panting and sweating above her, his body launching into hers with the strength of a bull. She wished he would stop this mindless and pleasuring torture but Christ… it just felt so _good_.

Ichigo wasn't finished. His fingers found her raw clit once again and he began to rub it furiously. Her legs clenched around his neck as her body jerked on the bed. She moaned and wheezed as he brought her body into another extraordinary orgasm. Her walls tightened around him with a force that made her already-tender flesh become enflamed. Ichigo groaned above her writhing body and gasped as he felt his release urging him to thrust into her even harder. He acquiesced to his body's demands and, not a moment later, finally spilled himself inside of her hot, waiting, center.

The next thing Rukia knew, she was lying on her back, Ichigo on top of her, her legs sprawled to either side.

Their panting was hard and lasted longer than the two of them had thought was possible. Rukia swallowed with difficulty and made sure to turn her face away from the clock. At this point in her life she didn't care if she was a minute or two late for work.

Or… one hundred and twenty minutes for that matter.

"You're right," Ichigo wheezed, his breath tickling her shoulder as she fought to breathe.

"Huh?" She gasped, her brain half startled by both the statement and the fact that he could actually talk right now.

"About…" he rasped, "The touching… it feels like… the first time… _all_ the time."

Rukia grinned and twined her arms around his back. The feel of his heart thudding against hers was sending her mind into shockwaves of contentment. Delicately, she pressed her warm nose into the crook of his neck and divinely wished that she could just stay there forever.

He groaned and flipped them over so she was no longer being crushed by his body weight. "If we don't get up now we'll never have time for that quickie in the shower."

"Hmm," Rukia murmured, running her fingers along the defined lines of his pectorals. She threw her leg over both of his and smiled. She felt so content right now. It was as if nothing could bring her down from this moment.

"So what do you say," he muttered, his hands also tracing patterns on her skin, only his were running along her back. "Quickie in the shower or one on the desks?"

"Tough choice," Rukia teased, not bothering to lift her head from its place on his clavicle. "Although… since the merger is technically going to be complete in a few days I'd say that we'd have to have a little farewell party for our favorite sex desk."

"Agreed," Ichigo answered smoothly. "After all, the desk has been through _so _much these past few months. It really does deserve a proper goodbye."

Rukia only smiled, "Kind of makes you wish the day would move a bit faster, doesn't it?"

*~*~*

She was almost ready to push open the doors to Suigetsu Incorporated when her cell phone buzzed in her pocket. Sending an apologetic grimace towards Ichigo, Rukia reached into her jacket and tugged out her buzzing cell. She quickly looked at the caller identification and instantly raised an eyebrow.

"It's Mr. Ukitake," she said with a frown, "I wonder why he's calling me…"

"You'd better answer it," Ichigo noted with some degree of exasperation in his voice. "I mean, if he wants you to be his replacement that _badly_."

"Oh shove it," Rukia muttered, her fingers digging themselves into the grooves of her phone and preparing to flip it open. "Maybe it's just some last minute touches I need to go over."

"Without me?" He demanded dubiously.

"You never know," she said, finally flipping open her phone and saying, "Good morning Mr. Ukitake," into the speaker.

There was silence on the other end of the line. Rukia frowned softly and she lightly pulled her cell away for a moment, making sure the line had connected, before placing it back on her ear.

"Sir?"

"Yes… ah, yes, Ms. Kuchiki, this is Mr. Ukitake."

Her frowning increased slightly and she nodded, "I know sir… I said good morning." She sent Ichigo and strange look and he blatantly looked impatiently at the doors.

"If only that were true." He said softly. Rukia stopped glaring at Ichigo and instantly frowned at the ground. There was something in the way Mr. Ukitake had said that… she wasn't sure she liked it. His voice seemed like it was filled with… with _anger_ and _sadness_. She didn't think she'd ever heard him like this before.

"Sir?" She said, taking a few steps away from the fidgeting Ichigo. "Is something wrong?"

"Ms. Kuchiki," he said, his voice chillingly cold, "I need you to come over to my office at Gotei Corporation immediately."

Rukia felt a protest bubbling on the tip of her tongue but she shoved it back down and nodded slowly, "Of course, I'll come over right away." Beside her, she heard Ichigo groan a bit but she ignored him. "I'll be there in ten minutes."

"See that you are."

The phone clicked and the line went dead. Rukia pulled it away from her ear and frowned lightly, "That was weird," she muttered, slowly closing her own phone.

Only a few feet away, Ichigo demanded, "Where are you going?"

Rukia slid her phone back into her pocket and raised an eyebrow at him, "Oh… Mr. Ukitake needs to see me over at Gotei Corp. right away."

He made a face and narrowed his eyes, "Fine… but come back as quickly as you can. You don't want to get caught in the rain…"

They both looked up at the black and dubious sky above them. The clouds seemed practically pregnant with rain that was just begging to fall. Distantly, thunder rumbled and the wind picked up slightly.

Ichigo and Rukia both frowned at the sky but shifted their heads to look back at each other. He smirked and said. "You and I only have a few more days in that same office and I want to make sure they're as memorable as possible."

"Alright," Rukia murmured, simply dying to move up and press her lips to his. She restrained herself and slowly moved away from him.

She took a few paces backwards and allowed his eyes to lock onto hers as she walked. After a dozen simple steps she turned and began walking across the courtyard, towards Gotei Corp. With a smirking grin crawling its way onto her face she gave her hips more of a swing as she walked. She knew that Ichigo would enjoy it and she kept it up until she was sure that she was no longer visible. She pushed through the revolving door at Gotei Corp. and turned around to see if he was still watching her. Surely enough, she could still see his orange poof of hair from all the way across the courtyard.

She smiled to herself and kept walking up towards the main desk. She passed the secretary with a smile—which the woman readily returned—and continued on to the elevators. She and a few other of her old business colleagues rode up to the upper floors but as time went on more and more people got off while she stayed on.

Finally, Rukia exited on the very top floor. The elevator music teased her from behind as she strode quickly towards the largest office in the entire area. Nothing could make her feel any better than she was right now.

Smiling, she announced her name to the secretary outside of the office. He took one look at her, pushed a button on the intercom on his phone, muttered, "She's here," and waited, not bothering to look up at her again.

The voice that came on the other end of the line was not the kindly, fatherly, voice of Mr. Ukitake that Rukia had been expecting. After all, it had been Mr. Ukitake who had summoned her to the office. She had expected that he be the one who…

_Doesn't matter,_ she thought absentmindedly, _all that matters is that I need to get this over with. Ichigo's waiting._

She frowned softly and racked her brain trying to remember where she had heard that voice before. The man behind it sounded… important. She closed her eyes and thought of when she had first come to Gotei Corp. She had been taken to see Mr. Ukitake for the first time and the person who had been in the room to greet her as well had been…

Mr. Yamamoto. The head of the Gotei Corporation.

"They'll see you now," the secretary said in a stony voice, still not looking at her. Rukia nodded once and quickly strode towards the main office. She opened the door and slid it back silently. The hinges didn't even squeak as they tended to do on her and Ichigo's office door. She stepped inside and shut the entrance behind her.

Her small frown became larger as she viewed what was going on in the room. A long table was set up in the very center. It had several plush seats around the edges which made her think that it was mostly used for conferences. At the very end, near one of the large window-decked walls, sat two people.

Mr. Yamamoto, the head of Gotei Incorporated and Mr. Ukitake, the head of the legal department. Rukia nodded her head at each man respectively and came forward until the table was directly against her pelvis. She placed her hand on the glossy surface, her dry fingers slid against the polished top as though they were skaters on top of ice.

"Hello Mr. Yamamoto, Mr. Ukitake," she said, making sure to address her boss's boss first. "You wanted to see me?"

"Sit down Ms. Kuchiki," Mr. Ukitake said in a voice as stiff as a block of wood.

It was then that Rukia actually started to look closely at the two men in front of her. Her easy countenance slowly began to dissipate as she stared them in the eyes. Mr. Ukitake was sitting stoically in his seat, his hands clenched in his lap, his face hard and unresponsive. Normally, she would have seen something similar to a little quirk of a smile on his lips or a small bit of warmth in his eyes. Now there was nothing but cold in his gaze and nothing but stone in his face.

Mr. Yamamoto was another story. Each time that Rukia had met him he'd seemed to simply exude power and authority, which made everyone around him quiver—herself included. However right now there was something else that was making her begin to shiver. His body seemed just as tense, if not tenser, than Mr. Ukitake's. His countenance was now radiating not only power and authority but something along the lines of anger and hatred.

"Sit. Down." Mr. Yamamoto said in a voice as old as time itself. The air in the room around her crackled as though it were charged with electricity.

Rukia simply nodded and took her place about fifteen feet away from the two of them, at the other end of the table. She didn't know why, but down at this end she felt incredibly small and insignificant.

She sat silently in her seat, hands folded in her lap, quietly willing someone to say something. She felt like a child who had been sent to the principal for misbehaving. She swallowed noiselessly and blinked. The only real question was… why had she been sent here in the first place?

"I assume you must be proud of yourself." Mr. Yamamoto said, his powerful voice booming out into the silence of the room.

Rukia frowned and glanced over at Mr. Ukitake. He sat stoically in his seat and was staring at the door. His gaze seemed fixed on the knob, as if willing someone to come through and deliver him from this situation.

"_I have no idea what's going on,"_ is what Rukia wanted to say. However, she knew that if she was here for the reason she'd originally thought of—aka, a promotion—she'd have to assume that they were talking about the merger.

"I believe so, Mr. Yamamoto," she began, her voice growing in confidence with each word she spoke, "The merger has gone well and now that we're finished the companies can go to work as planned."

The stares she got from the men in the room were enough to convince her that something was not right with her answer.

"Has… something gone wrong?" She asked, her voice—which had been so authoritative a moment ago—was now tinged with not only doubt, but a bit of wariness as well.

"You must think you're very funny," Mr. Yamamoto croaked angrily. Rukia shivered at the rawness of his tone and tried not to show it.

"I—I don't believe so, sir." She said quickly, cursing herself for stuttering.

His eyes narrowed into slits and he turned to Mr. Ukitake. Rukia's gaze went to him as well and she silently willed him to explain what was going on.

"Rukia," Mr. Ukitake said, turning towards her and speaking in that same cold tone, "We understand that Mr. Aizen must have made it worth your while. We just want to know why."

Her frown increased to the point where even Ichigo would have been proud of her. Her brain was whirling at a mile a minute. She didn't understand what they were saying. "Sirs, what are you talking about?"

"Please," Mr. Yamamoto cut in venomously; Rukia watched as he reached into his briefcase and pulled out a large manila folder. His ancient fingers opened the creaking edges and he glanced down into the contents. Mr. Ukitake turned his head away and Rukia craned her neck forward in hopes to be able to see what it was. Mr. Yamamoto scoffed and viciously tossed the folder across the entire table until Rukia's fingers lightly caught it. "Don't insult us."

Rukia's face was a mixture of confusion and intrigue as she set the folder in her lap and flipped open the front cover.

Her eyes widened as the confusion in her face dissipated. That, however, was not the only thing that escaped from the regions of her face. Blood, for one, flowed downward and left everything from her nose to her lips an ashen gray. Her throat closed on her and her breathing became much harder to manage. Her fingers began trembling and her body began shaking.

"Where…" she croaked, hardly believing that the voice belonged to her, "Where… did you get… what…? I don't under…s-st-stand…"

She stared at the photographs in her lap, hardly daring to believe that they were true. But they were, she knew they were because she remembered when each of these incidents had occurred.

"Oh… my… God…"

The first photograph was of her and Ichigo in the elevator directly after the merger announcement. She was pushed completely against the wall while he was shoved against her. His pelvis was grinding against hers and his mouth was ravishing her neck. Her hands were locked around his neck and his were on her bottom and her breast.

The second photograph was of Ichigo kissing her as she sat on top of her desk with her skirt hiked up. She saw his hand holding the back of her neck and his fingers gripping her thigh. She saw her head tilted back and her mouth open in need.

The third photograph showed her on top of him, riding him as he sat in his office chair. His shirt was open and his body was laid back in the plush leather of his seat. Pleasure was written over both of their faces as he grasped her breasts and touched her center.

The fourth photograph was of them sitting in his Benz, kissing the life out of each other while their hands fought to touch any piece of one another's bodies.

But it was the fifth and sixth photos that hit her the hardest.

In the fifth photo she saw Ichigo Kurosaki kissing Orihime Inoue outside of what looked like her apartment.

"_Good," he grumbled, "Because I need you in this car soon. You need to wash away the Inoue aftertaste."_

The sixth photo was of Orihime Inoue, tugging on both of his sleeves, with him leaning forward as if he was going inside of her apartment. Inoue had a coy and hungry look on her face. Rukia couldn't see Ichigo but something… something inside of her…

Rukia had never really believed in idioms or sayings before. Things like "hot as hell" just didn't fly with her. How could someone know how hot hell was? Or if it was even hot? Or if there even _was_ a hell? So many unanswered questions like that filled her head whenever she thought of phrases like that.

But right now, Rukia Kuchiki could say, with absolute certainty, that she knew what the phrase, 'world come crashing down around you' meant.

She also knew what it felt like.

Nothing moved around her, of course. The world did not suddenly implode in a blaze of fierce Armageddon nor did a massive earthquake engulf everything around her. Yet her entire body felt light. It felt cold. It felt like, piece by piece, she was wasting away into nothingness. She was dissipating into an abyss of darkness from which she doubted she could ever return. Her world was most definitely crashing down around her.

That wasn't even the worst part.

"Ms. Kuchiki," Mr. Yamamoto said, his voice trying to reach her through her haze of darkness. "When I first heard of your betrayal to this company I was astounded. I believed that you could never do such a dishonorable and disgusting thing. But now, with these pictures as my evidence, I see that you are just as corrupt as the man who bought you."

Rukia was numb. Her eyes were staring at the fifth and sixth photos. She couldn't be sure, but she thought she was crying.

"Honestly, leading us on for nearly an entire year," Mr. Ukitake interjected, shaking his head and sighing heavily. He pressed a hand to his forehead and looked sadly down at the ground, "I can't believe it." He jerked his creased face up and stared at her stunned and watering eyes, "Why? Rukia… I was ready to hand legal over to you. You would have been the youngest woman ever promoted to this position. Why would you do something like this?"

Rukia's shuddering breath was able to expel a few, gasping, words. "I… I don't…"

Another folder was passed over to her. It ran off the table and hit her body before she was able to catch it with her limp hands. She couldn't even feel her appendages as she flipped open the cover.

It was a mass of papers, maybe fifteen in all. The print was tiny, the format was thick, and the heading was familiar.

_He reached into the backseat and pull out his briefcase. He brought it into his lap and clicked it open._

"_Here," he muttered, tugging out a manila folder and shoving it into her hands. "Aizen needed it," he muttered, hurriedly finding a pen and unscrewing the cap for her. He shoved it into her hands and motioned to the paper. "It's an order form for new desks, chairs, staplers… shit like that. I just need you to sign it. I told him I'd get it to him by today."_

"_Oh," Rukia said as she began to flip through the pages._

_Ichigo groaned beside her and instantly leaned over, nipping on the sensitive cords of her neck, "Just sign it, it's nothing important."_

"Oh my God…" she gasped, her breathing now coming in quick hyperventilations. Through the darkness and wetness of her vision she managed to read some of the print on the page.

_Through the legal actions of Rukia Kuchiki and Ichigo Kurosaki, Suigetsu Incorporated is to assume all of the benefits and management of the Gotei Corporation. Their board of directors will be instantly liquidated and replaced with members of the Suigetsu Incorporated board of directors and hereby, all profits from the stocks, trusts, bonds, products, and anything else shall be directed towards…_

Her frozen fingers flipped through the pages and she shook as she saw her own signature down at the bottom, right next to Ichigo's.

_A hostile takeover._

"We've been taken over, liquidated, decimated…" Mr. Ukitake shook his head and looked away from her as if he could not stand the sight. "What did he promise you, Rukia? What could he have possibly given you that would have given you incentive to commit such a horrible act?"

"I—I…"

"It was Kurosaki," Mr. Yamamoto cut in, his gravelly voice running over her skin like razor blades. "Such a common trick it is… the young man seduces the young woman in order to get what he wants." He gave her a glare as cold as ice, "Or… in this case, what they _both_ want."

He folded his hands on the top of the table, rustling his beard a bit in the process. "You, Ms. Kuchiki, are disgusting. To betray your own company in the favor of sexual exploits is revolting. Women like you shouldn't exist. You're a disgrace to this company, an embarrassment to your family, and a shame to your sex. You have accepted bribes, consorted with criminals, and enabled one of the most profitable companies in the entire hemisphere to be taken over from behind by a cunning and despicable man interested only in the thrill of the kill."

He narrowed his eyes and gave her the cruelest stare she had ever received in her life. "Because of you and your hormonal stupidity millions of people will lose their jobs, their retirement funds, and their only means of survival. You _disgust_ me."

Rukia was quite sure that she flinched but at the moment she couldn't be sure. She could not feel any part of her body.

"You are henceforth dismissed from… what is _now_ Suigetsu Incorporated." Mr. Ukitake said, his voice softer compared to the frigidity of Mr. Yamamoto's. "You are not to set foot on the premises again. Please realize that we would take legal action if you were still a part of the Gotei Corporation. However, since you are not and neither are we," a look of bitterness crossed his face and he swallowed hard, "It is not within our power to do so."

His head turned and he looked her straight in the eyes. "Goodbye, Ms. Kuchiki… I'm so disappointed in you."

Rukia could do no more than get up on wobbling legs and exit the room, the pictures clutched in her hands.

Her world had indeed come crashing down around her.

*~*~*

_He lied to me._

Her feet led her across the courtyard.

_He made me fall in love with him._

She was in front of the doors.

_He was just trying to get promoted._

She pushed through the revolving glass.

_He tricked me into signing the papers._

Her heels clicked on the floor as she stumbled to the elevators.

_He was doing all the takeover work behind my back._

She stepped inside and stared vacantly as she rode upwards.

_He made me love him so I wouldn't doubt him._

People got off and people got on.

_He didn't ever care about me._

The music played in the background.

_He was just using me._

Floor after floor.

_He never wanted me for anything._

Some people gave her funny looks as she waited for her floor.

_He was just doing his job._

She just kept going up and up.

_I was his _job_._

The elevator dinged once.

_He was sleeping with Inoue on the side too._

The doors slid open.

_Did he make her wait for him so that he could seduce me?_

It was her floor.

_They were kissing._

She was the only one left in the elevator.

_He was going into her apartment._

She stepped out.

_He was two hours late._

Her footsteps carried her across the padded floor.

_He was seeing her all along._

"I always wondered why he was constantly around you."

Rukia's head moved to the side and she blinked blearily at the woman now speaking to her. Orange hair, large chest, and a pretty smile that, right now, looked wicked and pleased.

"What?" She croaked, her voice creaking and flat.

Orihime Inoue was sitting in her office chair and leaning against her desk, one elbow propped on the table, and the other listlessly tracing a pattern on her short skirt. A terrible smirk graced her expression and she raised an eyebrow. "Mr. Kurosaki," she said, her voice as chipper and as happy as ever, only this time, there was self-satisfied malice lacing her tone. She leaned back in her chair and smirked, "I always wondered why he was with you all the time. I mean… honestly, you're not really very pretty." She cocked her head to the side, as if considering it, and shrugged, "But I guess you must be good in the sack. But really _Rukia_, in his desk? An elevator? The parking lot? Please… you're more like a big hoe than a big-shot corporate lawyer."

A horrible pounding was beginning in her temples, her eyes were hot and itching, and her chest was imploding.

Her jaw trembled as she stuttered, "H—How… did…"

Inoue smiled and then let out a harsh giggle. "Oh please… pictures that delicious? Someone just _had_ to put them on the internet." She tossed her hair behind her shoulder and snorted, "I bet the whole building knows by now." She cocked her head to the side, "Waiting for Ichi to do all this was a lot of hard work, you know. I understood though. I waited. But now that you're through, I'll have him all to myself again."

Rukia began backing up, her breathing was erratic and her heartbeat was panicked. Her bloodshot eyes lingered on Inoue as she walked. That cold, evil, smirk was taunting her, mocking her, belittling her. She turned around and ran. Her body pelted forward to her office door and she grappled wildly with the doorknob, her lungs were heaving and her throat was closing and her eyes were burning and her body was shaking.

She flung the door open and propelled herself inside. The door slammed shut and she pressed her entire body against it. She was shaking so hard. Her body… it felt like it was collapsing. Her legs gave out from underneath her and she stumbled wildly against the ground.

"Rukia!"

_Oh God… please no… please, please, please no…_

She heard his chair propel backwards and hit the glass window. His shoes made sounds on the carpet as he strode forward.

"Rukia! What's wrong? Why are you…? What happened…?" He knelt down next to her and started to wrap his arms around her body.

She twisted as quickly as she could and pushed him backwards. He grunted and fell onto the carpet of their office. She gasped as she rose from her crouched position and rushed over to her desk. Her bag swung on her hip as she moved and blindly, she pulled everything off of her desk that she could find.

_Why did I come here?_

Ichigo got up swiftly from his position on the floor. He stood and didn't even bother brushing off his clothes. He came towards her as quickly as he could but she moved to the other side of her desk, avoiding him at every possible angle. She did not look at him. She couldn't.

Ichigo frowned quickly and she heard the rate of his breathing increase. His voice was deadly serious as he demanded. "Rukia what the hell is going on? Did someone hurt you? What happened? Tell me."

She stared down at her desk. Her vision was blurring with tears. Her stomach was writhing with pain and anger. Her heart—if it even existed anymore—burned in agony.

Two tears fell onto the top of her desk.

Ichigo sucked in a breath and immediately started to come around the desk.

_He wants to hold me… to comfort me… make the pain go away…_

_But he started the pain._

_How long is he going to keep up this farce? This joke? How much longer until he gets the go-ahead to go back to Inoue? How much longer is he being paid to act like he cares?_

Rukia felt the tears building again. Her body shook as he rounded the corner and reached out his hand.

_Paid…_

His hand was inches away from her shirt.

_To act…_

She could practically feel his heat permeating her skin.

_Like he cares…_

"Don't touch me!" She screamed, her body jerking away from his. She slammed back into the wall and slid as far away from him as possible.

She was breathing hard and her body was tingling. Ichigo jerked backwards and thrust his hand up into the air, his eyes were wide and pinned on her and his mouth was parted slightly. Confusion covered his face and he blinked as if to clear it.

"Rukia," he breathed, "Calm down. I'm only trying to help. I—"

"Shut up!" She shrieked, she lurched forward and grabbed senseless items from her desk. A stapler, a paper clip dispenser, and post-it notes were shoved roughly into her bag. Ichigo stood beside her, watching with uncertainty as she took more and more things.

"W-What was I?" She stuttered, tears and pain lacing her broken voice. "Some _job_? Did Aizen pay you off? Were you supposed to distract me enough so you could get a better promotion? A bigger office?"

He stared at her, slight fear showing in his face. He didn't understand.

She couldn't take it.

"_What was I?_" She shrieked.

Her hands found her Chappy the Rabbit mug and she grasped it tightly in her fist. In one wild swing she pelted it over her head and at the window. The mug shattered against the paned wall while the glass behind it cracked infinitesimally.

"_Rukia!_" He cried, coming towards her again. This time, he grasped her shoulders tightly and tugged her close to him. She could feel his warmth as his hands clasped down on her struggling shoulders. He was trying to look at her but she wasn't letting him. She was desperate to get away. His scent, his touch, his strength… it was making her want to melt from the inside out. It was making her want to collapse in his arms and cry. It was making her want to tell him everything and beg him to explain it.

But she couldn't. She already knew what was going on. She didn't need to hear him lie to her.

"Stop it, Rukia," he said, his voice louder than her gasping attempts to escape, "Tell me what's happened, tell me what's wrong! God damn it Rukia! I can't help you if I don't know what's _wrong!_"

"You've done more than enough!" She shouted, finally looking him in the eyes. Those beautiful, lying, honeyed-amber, deceitful, and smoldering eyes of his. Her mouth trembled as she fought back tears.

Rukia felt his body tense and knew, in that second, that he was going to pull her into an embrace. One from which she wouldn't be able to escape. She knew that once she felt his arms around her every bit of her would be lost.

So she did the only thing she could think of doing.

Rukia's fist connected with his stomach and her knee hit him in his inner thigh, close enough to his privates to do damage. He grunted and fell back immediately, his body curling into a protective ball. Knowing that she only had a few minutes she bolted from behind his body and shot towards the door.

Her eyes blurred with tears and her breathing was labored to the point of dizziness. She turned around and fought back a sob, "I hate you, Ichigo Kurosaki. I _hate you_."

She tugged open the door and bolted out, not even caring that everyone in the hall could see her. She raced forward, desperately seeking the solace of the elevator. Her limp, trembling feet, carried her towards the metallic doors and she pushed the button frantically. She heard the door to their office open and Ichigo come out.

She pressed the button again and again and again.

Finally, the doors slid open and she passed through the small crack as quickly as she could. She saw him running towards her and she shoved her thumb against the close button. Again and again she pressed it until the doors finally slid shut. He was only three feet away from her.

Her body thudded against the wall of the elevator and with several trembling sobs she sank down onto the cheaply patterned carpet.

_Don't do it Rukia… don't do it… don't cry Rukia… don't cry…_ she begged herself, rocking her body over and over and desperately trying to claw her way into a standing position. Her nails scraped against the wood of the handle bar and her lungs heaved with the effort it took not to start screaming.

The effort it took her to actually raise herself from the ground made every muscle in her body scream in pain. Stumbling blindly, the elevator doors opened and she threw herself out of them. Her legs protested angrily as she half-strode, half-jogged, across the lobby and shoved her body through the revolving doors. A few people protested as she hurried them along but she didn't pay them any attention. Her eyes were on fire as she moved.

_Just get to the metro. _She told herself, even the voice in her head was sobbing. _Just get to the metro and you'll be fine._

She was halfway across the shadowed courtyard when she heard him.

"_Rukia!_"

She sobbed at the sound and fought to quicken her place. Her legs wouldn't comply and she stumbled against the stones, crying out roughly as the skin on her hands was scraped away. She hissed and sobbed at the feel of the burning lacerations on her palms. Her knees slid against the rock and blood blossomed underneath of them. The fabric of her skirt ripped up to her mid thigh.

Then he was there, pulling her up, tugging her against him, folding her into him and touching her palms with his gentle fingers.

Rukia thrust him away but this time he held on as tightly as he could. Her wrists were prisoners to his larger hands. She sobbed as she tried to get away.

"Let me go," she cried, tears now streaming down her face. "Let me go let me go let me _go!_"

"No!" He shouted, shaking her desperately. "Not until you tell me what's happening. _Tell_ me what's wrong!"

"You _know_ what's wrong!" She shouted, her voice carrying through the courtyard, causing several people around them to turn and glare at the disturbers of the peace. Her eyes watered to the point where she could see nothing of his face but his remarkably orange hair. Oh how she loved his hair.

_I can't love it._

"Get off of me!" She shouted, jerking her wrists from his hold and stepping back as far as she could. He followed her instantly but she put her bleeding hands up, trying desperately to ward him off. She couldn't… she just couldn't…

"How could you?" She demanded in a whisper, her voice now being choked by her own throat. A sob rose up again but she forced it down. "How could you?" She asked again, still backing up, still glaring, still accusing. Ichigo was following her but she didn't want him to…

_Yes you do. You want him to hold you and kiss you and tell you everything is going to be alright._

Rukia shrieked and clapped her hands over her ears, as if that would stop these thoughts from coming to light.

"How could you do this to me Ichigo?" She shouted, bending over at the waist and trying to breathe. He came towards her to try and help but she shoved him away.

"Rukia… I don't know what…" his voice was quiet, unsure, and afraid. His body language, his tone… everything about him…

_He was paid to care._

"Was I just some toy?" She half-shouted in a voice as raw as a newborns first cry, "Just some plaything that you could have to pass the time before you got your big promotion and your big new office?" She drew in a deep, deep, breath and knew that soon enough she'd start to hyperventilate. She jerked her head over to his and clenched her teeth. "Did I _ever _mean _anything_ to you?"

"Rukia," Ichigo said, his hand reaching out and grasping for her face. She smacked his hand away and he stumbled slightly from the movement. But he didn't stop. "Please, I don't understand. Tell me what—"

Thunder rumbled above them and a light drizzle began to fall as she surged forward and shoved him hard in the chest. He grunted and stumbled slightly but instantly regained his balance. Rukia brought her hand up and wiped away the tears now streaming from her eyes. It was then that she saw an emotion in Ichigo's eyes she'd never thought she'd see.

Fear.

_He knows that I know,_ her mind howled in abject agony, _he knows and he's afraid that it'll get out!_

Rukia shook her head and cupped her hands over her mouth, sobbing over and over. "You… made me… love you…" she cried, new tears blossoming in her eyes as she spoke the words she wanted to keep hidden inside of her heart. "You made me fall… in _love_… and I was nothing but a… but a… _toy_. I will _never_ forgive you, Ichigo Kurosaki!"

It seemed as if the sky was mimicking her in her desolate actions. The moment she pulled her hands away from her mouth and turned from him the clouds opened and rain began to pour, drenching everything and anything underneath of them. Her legs, which had been all but dead a few moments ago, came to life with a power even she wasn't fully aware she had. Rukia ran as far and as fast as she could, sprinting across streets, darting along sidewalks, stepping into and out of newly formed puddles, and finally bolting down into the metro station.

The next thing she knew, she was standing in front of her apartment door, soaked and crying, her fuddled brain not even remembering how she had gotten there. It didn't matter though. Nothing mattered anymore.

_Get inside,_ a voice in her head cooed, _get inside and it'll all be over. You won't have to hide the pain._

Her hands numbly worked on the locks and she pushed the door open. It thudded against the wall and came swinging back. She narrowly avoided it as it returned. Her body dragged itself inside of her apartment and she flipped on the lights.

She wasn't prepared for who she saw sitting on her couch.

**(A/N: We had the calm and now we have the storm.**

**Tell me what you think.**

**REVIEW!!!)**


	39. Chapter 38

**Disclaimer: I do not own Bleach or any Bleach affiliates.**

_**Odalisque**_

**Chapter 38**

"Momo," Rukia croaked, finally finding her voice. "What… what are you… doing here?"

Her best friend sat up on her couch, her face was tearstained, her nose was red, her eyes were bloodshot, and her entire complexion was as pale as chalk.

She stared at Rukia for only a moment before she brought a couch pillow from her chest and pushed her face into it, a fresh wave of tears and sobs billowing through the fabric.

"Momo," Rukia said hoarsely, wanting more than anything to join her on the couch and begin crying into a pillow. "W-What's wrong? Why are you… where's Toshi—"

A wail louder than that of a banshee ripped through Momo's throat. Her entire body shook as she tucked her face against the pillow and curled into a tighter and tighter ball. She started rocking, back and forth, back and forth, back and forth… Rukia's already spinning mind was becoming even dizzier. It was made even worse due to the sharp splintering inside of her already shattered heart.

"He—He… c-called of-ff the… the… wedding." Momo sputtered, her voice was thick from her tears and her body was shaking with grief. Rukia froze in her spot and her shaking body began to tremble even more violently. "S-S-Someone sent-t h-him a v-video of-ff meh—me having s-s-sex." She gripped the sides of her head with her hands. Her already wayward hair slipped out of its confining bun and caused more of her soft locks to fall around her shoulders. She looked up at Rukia—her gaze was hollow and devoid of any emotion except pain—and spat, "At t-the p-p-party. My… _r-r-rape._"

"Momo," Rukia whispered mutely, feeling her stomach disappear as her friend's story came undone.

"But," she swallowed and raised a hand to wipe a tear away from her devil-red eyes, "Ap-p-parently, I w-wasn't _r-raped_. Ap-pp-arently, I—I _enjoyed it_."

Another shriek of pain echoed around the room. Momo clasped her head in her hands and Rukia hobbled over to the couch. Her heavy body landed next to Momo's and she tugged the pillow from her hands. Gently, she pulled Momo into an embrace. Her friend immediately melted into her arms. Momo's sobbing face found purchase on her blouse while Rukia's bleeding hands rubbed Momo's back diligently, attempting to fight her own despair while dealing with Momo's.

"Why, R-Rukia," she wailed, "_Why?_"

"I don't know," she answered, a sob of her own escaping from her throat. She held Momo tightly, hoping that if she had something—someone—to hold onto maybe the pain wouldn't be as bad. Maybe it wouldn't hurt so much.

She was wrong.

Her love for her friend only made listening to her pain even worse. Coupled with her own Rukia didn't know how she was holding herself up. Rukia's trembling increased threefold until she was shaking uncontrollably. She held Momo tighter and tighter and Momo held her back.

"Why does it have to hurt so much?" Rukia sobbed into her friend's shoulder. She choked as she added, "It's… it's one hundred times worse than with K-Kaien."

Still crying, Momo raised her head from Rukia's shoulder and brought her hands to her face. Her shaking thumbs wiped away the tears from under Rukia's eyes and she shook her head again and again until her hair was flying everywhere.

"No Rukia…" she moaned, "Not you too… please no…"

"Ichigo," Rukia choked on the name and braced her hands on Momo's arms so she could speak, "He… he b-betrayed m-m-me. I was j-just part-t of his _j-job_."

"Rukia," Momo cried, new tears falling fat from her face, only these were tears for her friend. "Oh Rukia… I'm so… _s-sorry_."

"I should know better," she whispered brokenly, "I should know by now… love doesn't bring me _anything_ but pain." She pressed a hand to her throbbing forehead and sobbed again, "God… I'm so stupid… but—but _why does it have to hurt so much?_"

Momo shook her head, "I—I don't kn-know, Rukia… I don't… know."

Rukia let out a strangled sob and buried her face into Momo's shoulder. Momo did the exact same as their arms wound tightly around each other.

Feeding off of one another's pain and each others' comfort, crying tears for one another, sobbing and shrieking for the pain of one's friend; together, Rukia and Momo held each other close. They cursed whatever gods they felt were responsible for their all-consuming pain, they sobbed for each other, and they tried their best to stem the flood of tears that never seemed to end.

As Rukia held Momo close and fought to keep her body from shaking too badly, she thought: _Really… who else do we have?_

*~*~*

Ichigo shoved himself into several people as he raced towards the largest office in the entirety of Suigetsu Incorporated. One particular man stumbled against the wall while a woman holding a stack of papers yelped and dropped them all onto the floor. He didn't even apologize as he barreled past them.

"_Don't touch me!"_

Her words were as fresh as new rain on his mind. They had soaked through his thoughts just as the rain outside had soaked through his clothes. His teeth clenched and his body shook when he thought of what had just happened. Ichigo could not understand why her face had been so pale, why her eyes had been filled with tears, and why her body had been shaking so badly.

He didn't know… and it scared him.

"Damn it Rukia," he hissed, pushing his way past more and more people, "I don't… I don't _understand_!"

"_Was I just some toy? Just some plaything that you could have to pass the time before you got your big promotion and your big new office? Did I ever mean anything to you?"_

His pace became even faster as he nearly jogged to the office he needed. What the hell had she meant by all of that? He had never thought she was a toy. Never! And what was that about a promotion and an office? What the hell was happening?

He groaned and fought the urge to press a hand to his forehead. His body was thrumming with some sort of primal need to comprehend what was going on around him. The beast inside of him needed to know what was happening. Yet it was also that same beast that was urging him to forget all that was happening here and just _go_ to her. Go to her and comfort her until the tears stopped and she was back with him.

Finally, the large oak doors he was looking for were before him and without a second thought he shoved his body into them. The knob cracked at the pressure Ichigo applied to the door. The entire frame jerked loose and banged against the back wall. He charged into the office like a bull into a fighting pen.

Mr. Aizen didn't even lift his head. He simply flipped a piece of paper to the side and grabbed another from the folder he was holding. "I thought you'd be coming."

Ichigo took three steps into the office before he noticed Gin Ichimaru was in here as well. He was leaning casually against the wall, his arms folded, and a wicked smirk on his face. Ichigo's eyes swept from one to the other and he swallowed, analyzing the situation as best he could considering the panicked state of his brain.

_They could be here just talking about some sort of business venture…_

"Congratulations, Mr. Kurosaki," Mr. Aizen interjected smoothly, he raised his head from his papers and allowed a slick smile to creep onto his face. "Everything went according to plan. And, like I said, you are going to be greatly rewarded."

Ichigo blinked twice and clenched his fists at his sides, "Right now," he ground out angrily, "I'm not interested in anything but an explanation."

Mr. Aizen cocked an eyebrow and leaned back in his chair. He arched his fingers and touched the tips rhythmically. "Whatever do you mean?"

That smile was giving him nothing but bad feelings and Ichigo had the suspicious feeling that Mr. Aizen knew how unsettling he was being.

Nevertheless, Ichigo thrust his arm towards the door and pulled his face into a snarl, "I want to know why Rukia Kuchiki just ran out of here screaming and crying."

Mr. Ichimaru moved in the periphery of his vision and Ichigo shot a glare over to him. His smile curled around the edges of his mouth and his eyes became small slits of glee.

Mr. Aizen only smiled, "What makes you think I had anything to do with it?"

"Maybe it's that sadistic smile on your face," Ichigo snarled, growling like a rabid dog.

A light, deep, chuckle emanating from far in Mr. Aizen's throat. He shook his head slightly and slowly. He—like a panther beginning to circle its prey—leaned forward until both of his elbows were resting on the table. His cold gray eyes lifted to Ichigo's own fiery glare. He pressed his folded hands to his mouth. It looked like he was trying to suppress a grin.

"Ichigo," Mr. Aizen said, his voice immediately switching from a genial tone to one a father might use with a confused son. "You've worked in this business for a few years, am I correct?"

"What the hell does this have to do with what I asked?" He demanded. He felt so tense… like if someone started touching him he'd immediately shatter into a million pieces.

"Everything," hissed Mr. Ichimaru from the side. Ichigo looked over at him and saw a smile slither across his face.

"You see Ichigo," Mr. Aizen continued, slightly enunciating his words even more, "When it comes to the business world you have to be ruthless. Absolutely, completely, ruthless." He rose from his seat and walked over to his bookcase. He paused in front of a framed diploma and gently placed his hands behind his back.

"I didn't become the youngest owner of a multi-billion dollar company by being nice." He observed, raising his hand and lightly brushing away a piece of dirt from the frame. "I had to fight for everything I wanted. Eventually, I came to realize that fighting was the only thing I would ever do in the business world." He turned to Ichigo and removed his thick, boyish glasses from his face. Slowly, he ran a hand through his hair and smirked. "It's not like I mind. This world is a jungle; and in this jungle I am at the top of the food chain. I quite enjoy the thrill of the chase. Oh… just watching my prey struggle for its last breaths before I finally end its suffering and sever its jugular."

Ichigo's eyes widened and his heart pounded viciously in his chest as he prayed that Rukia had not been one of his prey.

"The entirety of the Gotei Corporation was my prey this time…" he sighed and a happy, reminiscent, smile overcame his face. He turned to Ichigo and offered him a falsely sympathetic grimace. "I'm sorry I had to deceive you like this. But I couldn't have you knowing."

Ichigo's heart stopped in his chest. "Knowing… _what_?"

"The takeover," Mr. Ichimaru interjected, coming to stand a few feet from Mr. Aizen. "There was never going to be a merger between Suigetsu and Gotei. That was just a ruse. We took them over… and we did it yesterday."

One heartbeat.

Two heartbeats.

"_What?!_"

"Yes," Mr. Aizen continued as if Ichigo hadn't spoken. "But it's for the best, I assure you. After all, if we had merged our boards would have had to come together. I won't have any of Yamamoto's old geezers taking what is rightfully mine. With only our board over the two companies…" he raised his hand and stared at his palm with intense eyes. "I will be a god in this business."

"And Rukia," Ichigo gasped, finding it hard to breathe, "What did you do to _Rukia_?"

"She wasn't necessary," Mr. Ichimaru's voice slid over Ichigo's skin like a disgusting snake, wrapping around him tighter and tighter until he couldn't even draw a single, godforsaken, breath.

"Wasn't…"

"She was terminated," Mr. Aizen said in a clipped yet happy voice. "You should know why, you signed the papers that effectively ended her little farce here."

"I… I… what?"

"The papers I gave you on Friday," he said breezily, "I'm sorry I had to trick you, but it was necessary. Those papers effectively detailed that both you and she knew about the planned takeover and aided in its completion. Of course, I can only assume that when the Gotei Corporation found out she was instantly terminated from _their_ company. Not that they exist anymore, of course." He chuckled listlessly and straightened the frame of one of his many diplomas. "She she certainly isn't wanted here."

_Oh my God._

"But look on the bright side Ichigo," Mr. Aizen cooed with false sense of sadistic cheer. "You are now the head of the legal department of the entirety of Suigetsu Incorporated… that, of course, includes all of the Gotei Corporation now. Your salary will be substantially increased, you'll have an office the size of a penthouse, and anything else you could ever want will be at your disposal." He turned to Ichigo and grinned, "I told you that you'd be rewarded."

Ichigo could not feel his body. His heart was thudding rapidly inside of his chest. His pulse screamed in his neck. He could no longer feel his lungs expanding and contracting.

_Rukia…_

"How… how could you do this to her?" He croaked, feeling like he needed something to lean against. The table was nearest, he placed his hand on the top and brought another to his burning forehead.

"She was expendable," Mr. Aizen stated simply. He walked over to Ichigo and placed a hand on his shoulder. He fought back a shudder at the touch. Aizen felt cold. "I know that the two of you became… _close_. But simply, women like her don't belong in a world like this."

He patted Ichigo's shoulder twice and squeezed it once. "I'll give you some time to digest this. I understand it must be a lot to take in right now. However, I expect you back and at one hundred and ten percent very soon. Gin… we have work to do."

Mr. Ichimaru nodded once and stealthily moved towards the exit, following in the direct footsteps of Sosuke Aizen.

Ichigo was left standing near the table, his heart pounding, his head throbbing, and his hand furiously trying to hold the rest of him up.

"Think of it as a gift," Mr. Aizen said softly before turning and shutting the door.

Ichigo's eyes glazed over.

"_You… made me… love you…"_

He could see her. He could see her so clearly: her beautiful sapphire eyes filled with salty liquid, her body trembling, her perfect mouth forming into a sob.

"_You made me fall… in love… and I was nothing but a… but a… toy."_

"What have I done?"

*~*~*

Orihime Inoue played nervously with the end of her skirt as she craned her neck around the edges of her desk. She leaned and she leaned until her body was nearly out of the entire chair. She yelped as a bone in her neck cracked and grumpily sat back down. Her eyes hardened as a person who was not Ichigo Kurosaki came out of the elevator and began to walk down the hall. She sent them a chilling glare and turned her nose up at the greetings.

Muttering angrily, she tossed herself back into her chair, completely ignoring the phone ringing insistently before her. Instead, she turned in on herself and tried to remember each moment of such a delicious morning.

Seeing that whore walking out of the elevator had, without a doubt, been the greatest moment of her life. The look of complete and utter destruction resting on each of her disgusting features was so fantastic. The way her eyes seemed hollowed out… the way her face looked utterly bloodless… the way she was trying to hide the tears already streaming down her cheeks…

Orihime let out a giggle and took a moment to swirl around in her chair.

_She got what she deserved._

Then… _oh_! What she had said to her! Orihime took a moment to bask in her own brilliance.

"_I always wondered why he was with you. I mean… honestly, you're not really very pretty. But I guess you must be good in the sack. But really Rukia, in his desk? An elevator? The parking lot? Please, you're more like a big hoe than a corporate lawyer."_

Her face had been absolutely priceless. And the stuttering? Like icing on the cake.

"_H—How… did…"_

Orihime clapped her hands together and hoped that it had been the two last pictures that hit her the hardest.

"_Oh please… pictures that delicious? Those just had to go on the internet. I bet the whole building knows by now."_

She sighed and closed her eyes to relive the moment once again. There were, of course, no copies of the photos. Mr. Schiffer had been very specific about not having actual, _physical_ copies. However, he had sent her a digital copy that had a special lock on it so it couldn't be printed from any machine. She had seen what was going to destroy Rukia Kuchiki to the point where she'd be nothing more than an empty shell.

There were, however, no images of them on the internet.

"Oh, one teensy weensy fib," she muttered to herself, pulling up a random game of solitaire and beginning to click the cards. "No one is going to know that they were together."

_Oh yes…_ she would never let those pictures get on the internet or into newspapers. She'd guard them with her life if she had to. No one—

_Absolutely no one,_ she reminded herself with a growl.

_Absolutely _no one would see _her_ Ichigo Kurosaki in a compromising state with that whore. If there were to be pictures of him put up for the world to see it would be pictures of her and him. She'd be the one bringing him pleasure. She'd be the one he was kissing. She'd be the one he wanted.

_Yes…_

Then all the yelling… it had been glorious. To see Rukia Kuchiki running like a terrified little girl had been so fantastic Orihime nearly didn't believe it when she first saw it. Half of her wished she had brought a video camera to work.

_Today was such a good day._

Her eyes darkened as she remembered. _With one exception…_

The way Mr. Kurosaki had come running after her had not been very conducive to her plan at all. The look on his face… so panicked and hurt and fearful… it was almost like he actually wanted to _help _her.

That, of course, was completely ridiculous, Orihime told herself. After all, he was _only_ with her because she had tricked him. She had probably tricked him into loving her as well. That was probably why he was acting so strangely.

Orihime brought a hand to her face and tapped her chin lightly. She would just have to work extra hard in order to bring Mr. Kurosaki back to his senses.

The elevator doors slid open with a ding and Orihime's eyes snapped over to the person now coming out.

She sucked in a large breath. Her chest puffed out and her breasts jiggled excitedly. _He_ was coming towards her. His eyes were cast down but that didn't matter. She knew their chocolaty depths backwards and forwards. Hurriedly, she rose from her seat and took the three steps she needed so that she was directly in his path. Her nipples tightened on their own accord when she thought of what would soon happen between them.

_Oh… Mr. Kurosaki…_

He jerked to a stop only a few feet away from her. His head lifted and he blinked twice at her smiling face. Orihime's toothy grin faltered infinitesimally as she noticed his bloodshot eyes and his pale face but a moment later it was back at full force.

"Mr. Kurosaki," she whispered breathlessly. She was ready for this… she had been waiting for this moment for what seemed like her entire life.

"Inoue," he croaked, tilting his body to the side so that he could pass her.

She stepped in the same direction and deliberately blocked his path. He didn't make another move forward and Orihime held her position, pushing her breasts out a bit more until they were only a few inches away from his hanging head.

She heard him draw in a deep breath and finally, he raised his head and looked her straight in the eyes. "What do you want Inoue?" He demanded in a gravelly voice.

_That's probably what he sounds like directly after love-making… or maybe when he wakes up in the morning… or when he has a cold!_ She thought excitedly, attempting—and failing—to calm her rapidly beating heart.

_Okay… I can do this._

"Mr. Kurosaki…Ichigo," she started, her hands were curled into fist and her tongue ran diligently over her lips. She wouldn't deny the thrill she had gotten from saying his first name. She squared her shoulder and continued, "I want to go on a date with you."

He only blinked once.

_That's good, right?_ She thought for a moment, then nodded mentally. _Of course it is._

"Why would you ever think I would go on a date with you?" He asked in a voice that was… bland.

Orihime frowned; this man was _not_ her Ichigo Kurosaki. _He_ was fiery and uncontrollable and wild! This creature in front of her had his form but… he looked so dead inside.

_It's all that whore's fault._ She thought angrily, her fingernails biting into the skin of her palms.

"Because," she began, realizing that if he was starting to move away from her again. She squared her shoulders and cleared her throat. If he wanted an explanation he would get one, "If I lived five lifetimes I'd want to be with you for each one. Because I know that you and Rukia Kuchiki—" she spat out the disgusting name venomously, "—are done. Because I know that she tricked you into loving her. And because I know that I can replace that miniature witch in your heart as quickly as you can ask me what time to pick me up."

His eyes widened and Orihime congratulated herself on how effectively she had delivered her little speech. Surely he couldn't resist her now that she had just confessed everything to him. How could he, when she was right here, presenting herself to him? How could he, when she had just professed to loving him? How could he, when he was probably thinking about the one kiss they had shared only a few days ago?

She blushed at the thought. Of course, _she_ had been thinking about it. It had never left her mind since the minute it happened. It didn't leave her in the day or in the night. She thought about it at work, she dreamt about it at night, and she couldn't keep it from her mind during the sparse free moments she'd have throughout the day.

Of course, in her mind, the kiss was turned into much, _much_, more. His hands running over her body, his mouth on her breasts, his cock deep inside of her, and his orgasm rushing into her.

Her fazed-over eyes focused on him again and she sighed at the determined lines on his face.

He straightened to the point where he was towering over her. Orihime shuddered softly, oh… how many times had she imagined him shoving her against a desk and ravishing her? With his height she had deduced that it would be quite easy to do.

"Once again, why would you ever think I would go on a date with you?" He demanded, his voice nothing short of feral.

He brushed past her and shoved his body into his office. Orihime stood rooted in her spot. Her brain was buzzing as she listened to the rustling inside of those doors.

_Does he need me to repeat myself?_ She asked herself. … _Probably._

She turned around and waited for him to come back out of his office. That was it; all she needed to do was make sure that he heard her. He probably had some sort of ear infection that caused him to not hear very well. Or maybe there was a large amount of earwax stuffed in his ear canal! She had heard that that was a very common problem these days.

Mr. Kurosaki—_Ichigo_, she shuddered softly—burst through his office door with his coat in hand and his car keys in the other. Orihime steeled herself and opened her mouth to give him her explanation again. Louder this time, just so he could hear her.

He stopped in front of her and raised his eyes to hers. She sighed and allowed a happy smile to melt onto her features. "I said—"

"Inoue," he interrupted and she shut up immediately, clasping her hands behind her back and pushing her chest out even more. If anything would win him over it was her enormous _gifts_.

"Yes?" She asked breathlessly.

He stared deeply into her eyes and narrowed his own, "How's your dog?"

"I don't have a dog," she answered immediately, unfazed by his silly question. "But we can get one if you want." Her smile was so wide that it forced her eyes to squeeze shut. She giggled happily at the thought of having a dog with Mr. Kurosaki… Ichigo.

_First comes dog then comes baby…_ she sang inwardly.

"That's what I thought," he muttered, his voice dead.

He was at the elevator before she could say another word. The doors opened and he slid inside, pushing the button for another floor and not even looking up once.

Orihime Inoue stood, completely dumbfounded, in the middle of the hall.

"Was it something I said?" She whispered, half to herself and half to anyone was listening.

*~*~*

"You need to eat," Rukia whispered in a voice as dry and as cracked as her eyes.

"So do you," Momo answered in a voice that was just as bad as Rukia's.

They were sitting on the couch, their hands clasped together, holding their respective pillows and wiping their faces with any inch of untainted clothing they could get their hands on.

"I'm not hungry." Rukia murmured, closing her dry and burning eyes and fighting back a new wave of tears and nausea.

"Neither am I," Momo muttered, choking slightly and swallowing audibly.

If Rukia had been Rukia she would have cracked a dry joke about that comment. Normally, Momo liked to form a very intimate relationship with ice cream after a break up.

But Rukia was not Rukia right now. She could never make that comment. Momo wasn't going through _just_ another break up. This was so much worse. Not to mention the thought of intimacy with ice cream only made her think of Ichigo and the time they had… they had…

"Rukia," she whispered, another sniffle permeating her phrase, "Can I… can I stay w-with y-you f-for a wh-while?"

The question made Rukia feel like a giant was stamping on the tattered and bleeding remnants of her already desecrated heart. "Of course Momo. I…" she bit her lip and tried to fight a sob, "I need you right now."

Momo's red eyes watered as well, "I need you too…"

Rukia let in a shuddering breath and tightened her grip on Momo's hand and dragged it quickly into her lap. Her movements felt sluggish and old. Slowly, she was able to get Momo to look at her.

_What a sight we must be right now_, she mused miserably, taking in her friend's destroyed appearance and realizing that she must look about the same.

"We need each other," Rukia whispered in a voice so quiet she doubted for a moment that Momo could even hear her. "The two of us." She said, louder this time, "We'll help each other through this. We'll get through this together."

Momo nodded and brought her other hand up to Rukia's. "We'll help each other." She murmured, her voice thick with tears and emotion.

"You're my best friend Momo," Rukia said, trying so hard to keep her voice from cracking. "I couldn't get through this without you."

"D-Ditto," she sobbed, lurching forward only to be enveloped into a tight hug. Rukia held onto Momo like she was her lifeline. She breathed in deep, shuddering, breaths and tried to force the images of _him_ out of her mind.

They held each other for a few more moments before slowly breaking apart. Rukia swallowed several times and wiped the bases of her eyes, "I'll call House of Wong and have them deliver."

"O—Okay," Momo choked, turning away and wiping her eyes as well. "I'll…" she looked disparagingly at the couch and many of the tear and snot stained pillows. "Clean up a bit."

The two of them sat on the couch for nearly thirty more minutes in dead silence before either one of them found the strength to move. Rukia creaked towards her phone and had almost reached the device when she heard it ring.

She felt so dead inside that even the shrill, piercing, cry did not make her jump like it occasionally did. She sighed and let it pass to her voicemail. Her voice—back when it had been somewhat lively—filled the room as the machine spoke: _"This is the home of Rukia Kuchiki. Leave a message."_

"_Rukia."_

She froze and felt another wave of tears flooding the backs of her eyes.

"_Rukia… I know you're there. Please pick up. Rukia! Please I need to talk to you! Rukia… please Rukia, don't let it be like this. Just let me explain. I need to—"_

She jerked forward and ripped the entire phone, the phone cord, and the jack, out of the socket in the wall. She let out a hoarse scream as she threw the phone to the ground. It clattered away from her and slid to the other end of the room; it was then left in stark dismemberment, with the lights only blinking twice before going out completely.

Rukia clapped her hands over her ears and sank to the floor, her scratched and bloodied knees banging onto the hardwood beneath her. She sobbed anew as fresh tears drenched her eyes. Momo came running over to her and instantly wrapped her arms around Rukia's shoulders.

"Shh… shh… it's okay Rukia… it's going to be okay…" she said, her own voice broken by sobs.

Rukia shook her head, knowing that Momo was lying even though she was trying her best to comfort her.

Slowly, Momo rocked Rukia back and forth, willing the pain to go away.

Pain never listens.

*~*~*

Ichigo tightened his lips as his phone was cut off. He brought it down to his lap and pressed redial. Only a dial tone came through the speaker.

"Damn it," he cursed in a voice that was thick with something he'd rather not name. "Rukia…"

He tried her cell phone but apparently it had been turned off. He got her voicemail right away. He cursed again and threw his phone into the nether regions of his car. Sitting on the curb in the middle of a dingy street, his black Benz looked like a swan among a flock of chickens, he didn't care though. He had just needed to get away from that horrid place. He needed to get away, to stop, and to think.

He pressed a hand to his hot forehead and tried to breathe. It wasn't working very well though… the whole breathing thing. His lungs felt constricted and his body felt compressed. His heart was thumping at an agonizingly slow rate inside of his chest and his mind was clouded with pain.

_What do I do now?_

The question lingered in his head the way he lingered on the street. He just didn't know. He didn't know what to do.

_Rukia…_

Just then, his cell phone began buzzing. He moved faster than he could ever remember moving before. His hand shot in front of the passenger seat and his fingers closed around the cool metal of his cell.

He flipped it open without looking at the caller identification. "Rukia?" He demanded breathlessly.

There was a slight pause and Ichigo's heart tripled in speed. "No…" the voice said after a moment. "It's Tatsuki."

His heart stopped beating and fell down into his stomach. The _plop_ was almost audible. "Oh. What do you want?"

"You were expecting your girlfriend?" Tatsuki's voice sounded tense.

"Yes," Ichigo snapped, not in the mood to engage in this bitter banter with his friend. He needed to find a way to fix things with Rukia… and fast. He didn't know how much longer he could go on without seeing her.

He didn't know how much longer he could take knowing that she was crying because of him.

"What do want, Tatsuki?" He demanded harshly, "I have things to do."

He could practically see Tatsuki bristling from the other end of the phone. "Oh… oh yeah, I'm sorry, things to _do. _Things like, I don't know, say going and apologizing for taking _her_ job? For practically destroying _her_? For outright _ruining_ _her_ life?"

His eyes widened. "H…How did you know…"

"Moron, that's what I called you about," she spat, her voice filled with disgust. "I'm running the story in tomorrow's paper."

The blood in his face—what little was left of it anyway—drained away completely. "You're w-what?"

"It's my assignment for the _Ledger_," she told him shortly, "I just thought I should let you know in case… well, you know."

"Tatsuki," he choked, "You… you _can't_. I—I swear that I didn't do what you think I did but… but…" He ground his teeth together and felt the cords in his neck come close to snapping. Christ, why was this happening? Things had been going so well.

He fought the urge to slam his fist through his windshield.

There was silence on the line before he heard a stack of papers being thrown onto a desk. "Ichigo… what do you mean you didn't do what I think you did?"

"Off the record?" He sighed, feeling the cold fingers of dread entering his throat and slowly cutting off his air supply.

The pause was heavy and edged with annoyance. "For now." She muttered.

"I'm being set up," he said clearly, his voice cutting through any remaining quiet. "Tatsuki… I _was_ working with Rukia on the merger between Gotei and Suigetsu. I never knew anything about a hostile takeover. I was never working on _any_ paperwork that would have given Suigetsu any sort of advantage."

"You're sure?"

"Yes!" He rubbed two of his fingers against the bridge of his nose and shook his head. "Except… last Friday, Aizen—" he spat his name like a curse, "—he gave me these papers to sign. He told me that they were just order forms for new chairs and stuff so I didn't read it over. I signed them and made Rukia sign them too."

"What were they?"

"Papers saying that I had explicit knowledge of the fact that Suigetsu was taking over Gotei."

"And you didn't?"

Ichigo's temper boiled over the edge and he shouted, "I only found out about the takeover this _morning_ when Rukia ran out of our office _crying_!"

Tatsuki heaved a heavy sigh and then groaned, "I can't believe you didn't even read what you were signing. That's business one-oh-one Ichigo."

"I was in a hurry to leave," he growled, his mind immediately dredging up what had happened directly after he had gotten Rukia to sign the papers. Or… as he should say, sign her execution order.

"I know, it was a huge miscalculation that's cost me more than I want… more than I'm even willing to admit but… _Christ_ Tatsuki, don't you think he would have eventually found some other way of getting us to sign the damn papers without reading them?"

"You have a point," she muttered reluctantly after a slight pause, "But still Ichigo, with one signature you _ruined_ her."

"_I know that!_" He shouted into the phone, slamming his hand down onto the steering wheel and accidentally squealing the horn. "Damn it Tatsuki. I feel like I've had my fucking heart ripped out of my chest! Do you know how much it hurt me to see Rukia crying like that and blaming me for something that I _know_ I didn't do? I didn't even know what she was _talking_ about until I spoke with Aizen afterwards! She won't answer my calls, she's not responding to my emails, she's probably shredding any fax I've sent, ten bucks says she's already got a persona non grata out on me at her building, and I can't contact her any other way!" He slammed his hand onto his wheel again and this time his strangled scream was in tune with the bellowing horn. "I don't know what to do and all I can think of doing right now is going to her and… and…" his voice went from enraged to defeated in less than three seconds. He bent his head and moaned softly, "And _holding_ her until she stops… until she stops… crying and… and just _apologizing _for _everything._ Even the things I didn't do."

His breathing was heavy and his body was lying against the soft leather of his car seat. Ichigo's eyes were burning with something he would never admit to. His chest was so tight… it felt like his heart was exploding.

"Shit Tatsuki," he whispered brokenly, "Why did this have to happen?"

He sat in his seat, not really expecting an answer, but waiting for one nonetheless. He shook his head and tried not to let his devastated emotions get the better of him. He didn't know what to do… he felt so helpless…

_No one should feel as helpless as I do right now,_ he thought miserably. _No one… and especially not Rukia._

"Ichigo!"

His attention snapped back to the voice that was now speaking to him from his lap. He looked grimly down and realized that he had allowed his hand to limply rest on his lap. He picked it up after a moment and placed it next to his ear. He just felt so… _tired_.

"Yeah Tatsuki?" He mumbled in a voice laced with defeat.

"Ichigo…" she sounded a bit conflicted as she spoke, "I—I'm going to run a story on the takeover."

He sucked in a breath and prayed that she wouldn't say what he thought she was going to say.

"I won't include anything about your _supposed_ part in the whole thing. And I won't say anything about Rukia's _supposed _betrayal of Gotei Corp. either, okay?" Ichigo was ready to thank her several thousand times before she cut him off again. "But just because I don't write it for the _Ledger_ doesn't mean that others newspapers won't."

"Thank you Tatsuki," he croaked, knowing full-well that the _Karakura Ledger _basically had a monopoly on all of the newspapers in the city.

"My editor will probably kill me," she muttered angrily into the phone, "But… I'll need to give him something more. A bargaining chip, per say."

Ichigo's brain, which had been so drained just a moment ago, seemed to sharpen at her words. "What do you mean _something more_?"

"You said you were set up, right?" She said clearly, "Well what if there are a couple more facets we're not looking at? What if there's something that's deeper than this going on right now?"

"A conspiracy?"

She drew in a large breath and cleared her throat. "No… those are a bitch to prove. But think about if Ichigo, if you go back and find out what's really going on… why all this secrecy, why Rukia was chosen as the fall-girl, why Gotei was so under protected against a possible takeover—not just from Suigetsu, hell, from _anyone_. You know, stuff like that, then I can take it and make sure that the top guys at Suigetsu will get guillotined in the public eye."

His eyes widened to the size of dinner plates, "You'd do that?"

"It's every reporters dream to be singlehandedly responsible for the public executions of multibillion dollar company executives," she responded with a slight amount of demonic glee in her voice. "After all, 'greedy eaters dig their graves with their teeth.'"

Ichigo nodded and expelled a breath of air he hadn't even realized he had been holding in. "And Rukia? If I… if I find out what's going on… do you think she'll forgive me?"

"Do I sound like I know the inner-workings of Rukia Kuchiki's brain?"

"Tatsuki," he growled, "If you were in her place what would you do?"

"Shoot you in the head."

"And if I survived?"

She sighed and his heart sunk in his chest, "Ichigo… if I was her and I found out that you were the reason I had lost my job and my dignity as well as any lingering respect that people might have for me… I don't know if I could _ever_ forgive you."

"Please don't say that," he whispered thickly.

"You asked."

He nodded and bit his bottom lip. "I can't lose her, Tatsuki. I can't. I'm not… I'm not strong enough for that."

Another sigh came across the line and Ichigo placed a cold palm against his hot eyes.

"You know Ichigo," she began softly, "An ancient Chinese philosopher once said 'seek not happiness too greedily, and be not fearful of happiness.'"

"What are you trying to say?" He muttered in defeat, all of his normal defenses were gone, demolished by what Tatsuki had just told him. He wasn't in the mood to start analyzing old Taoist sayings.

"What I _mean_," she snapped, "Is that for the longest time you _had_ Rukia Kuchiki. She was _yours_ and you were just too stupid to take it to the next level. Trust me, she wouldn't be acting like this if she wasn't in love with you. Her heart is probably shattered into a million pieces right now."

"_You… made me… love you… You made me fall… in love… and I was nothing but a… but a… toy."_

He knew Tatsuki was scowling at him over the phone. "I'm guessing that you were too much of a coward to actually even consider that you had feelings for her. Can you imagine how that must have been for her? To know that she fell for a guy who didn't even love her back?"

Ichigo was about to say something but Tatsuki still wasn't finished, "Ichigo… if you love her—and don't bother denying it, I know you do—then win her back. Find out what those bastards did to her and get her back any way you can."

"But will she accept it?" He murmured, hopelessness still permeating his voice, "Do you think she'll ever be able to forgive me?"

"If she knows it wasn't you that fucked up her life," Tatsuki stated dryly. "But I'd hurry Ichigo. Girls like Rukia Kuchiki don't stay in one place. Especially after they've been hurt like that."

A bucket of ice water was promptly shoved down Ichigo's throat and cascaded into his stomach. He bolted upright in his seat and tried to calm his frantic breathing. Rukia… leaving… the very thought made his face feel feverish and cold at the same time.

"She can't," he croaked, "She _can't_."

"She can," Tatsuki told him coldly. "You just have to make sure that she doesn't."

"How much time can you give me?"

"Since my editor owes me for not telling his wife about his little escapade with last year's Miss Karakura winner… I'd say about…" he heard flipping on her desk and wondered if she was looking through a planner, "Five weeks. About a month and a half."

"It'll be done," Ichigo growled furiously, "I don't care what it takes. I'm going to fix this." He paused and clenched her teeth together. "I'm going to win her back."

"I know you can."

"I will."

*~*~*

"I don't think I can do this Momo," Rukia sobbed from her curled position on the floor. Momo's arm was resting around her shoulders and she was patting her gently.

"Shh…" Momo choked, "Don't say that Rukia. We're in this together, remember?"

"No," Rukia shook, her body was trembling so violently she wondered how she could still be sitting properly. "I—I can't… not after… this is so much wo-worse than K-Kaien."

"I—I know," Momo murmured, hugging Rukia as tightly as she could, "I know."

"Everything here r-reminds me-e of _h-him_." She sobbed, "The couch, the bed, the shower, the counter, the table… _everything!_" She screamed the last word through a thickly coated throat.

"It's the same with me," her friend said, shaking quietly against her.

"I need to get away," Rukia whispered, her eyes glazing over, "Aw-way from this _p-place_, away from th-this _town_, and a-away from anything t-that reminds me of _h-him._"

"H-How?"

There was silence between them, broken only by sobs and sniffles. Rukia's eyes became level with the trashed telephone and she clenched her teeth hard. She wanted to forget about him. She wanted to expunge his voice from her head. His touch… his taste… his kiss… she wanted it all gone.

She wanted to be gone.

"We could move," Rukia whispered, her voice lost all semblances of their former tears. She spoke in a voice that was dry, raw, and _empty_. "We could go somewhere else. Somewhere where we couldn't be found. Somewhere where we can become new people. Somewhere where we can leave this life behind."

She turned to Momo and closed her eyes gently, "Rome, Paris, London, Prague, Vienna…" she opened her eyes and stared at Momo's watering gaze. "New York."

They stared at each other in silence.

"We could go to New York," Momo whispered, reaching her hand over to Rukia's and gripping it tightly. "It's over three thousand miles away."

Rukia nodded, "We could go to New York… and we could start over."

"New us." She whispered.

"New life." Rukia agreed.

"Away from… _this_." Momo choked.

"Away from… _them_." Rukia wept. "We'll move to New York. The two of us. Starting over."

Momo looked over at her best friend, and for the first time since she had told Rukia about her disastrous meeting with her former-fiancé, Rukia saw a bit of hope gleaming in her eyes. Momo nodded her head and rasped, "Yeah."

**(A/N: And things just keep on getting brighter, don't they?**

**You know, a family member of mine pointed this out: If this fic were a tv series, with 12 episodes per season, it'd be well into the third season. Something to think about.**

**I want to thank **_**everyone**_** who reviewed for the last chapter. I believe I almost had 100. That's just… **_**mind blowing**_**. For one chapter!!! Thank you all **_**sooooooooooo**_** much! Reviewers like you keep us authors going!**

**PLEASE DON'T FORGET TO REVIEW!!!)**


	40. Chapter 39

**Disclaimer: I do not own Bleach or any Bleach affiliates.**

_**Odalisque**_

**Chapter 39**

Rukia's cell phone buzzed on the nearby table. It clattered noisily against the wood and even threatened to slide off the edge if not soon stopped. Momo, who was sitting at said table, watched it with soft interest. The LCD screen on the front glowed a bright blue as it continued to thrash about on the hard surface.

Momo looked up noiselessly, "Rukia… your phone…"

Said woman was currently sitting on the couch, eyes lifelessly staring at a random home shopping channel—which was currently displaying a set of lapis lazuli earrings. Rukia personally thought they looked like lumps of gilded crap but she didn't say anything. Her dry eyes blinked carelessly and she sighed.

"Who is it?" She rasped.

Momo sighed and reached across the table, gently stopping the phone before it rattled off the edge. She glanced at the screen and heaved a heavier sigh. "Your brother. His private line."

Rukia didn't even bother to react. "Oh." Ever so slowly, she slid her legs out from under her and started to move. Her limbs felt like they had spent an entire month rotting in a desert, cracking and flaking away until there was barely anything but bone left. Her lugubrious body moved towards the table where Momo was sitting and she gently took the seat across from her.

She raised her hand and accepted the phone. It must have been on the twentieth ring but Rukia knew that her brother, if he had something important to say to her, could out-wait a dead man in order to speak to her.

She heaved a sigh and glanced at her friends' wary face before flipping open the phone and responding, "Rukia Kuchiki speaking."

"Hello Rukia," her brother said. For once, Rukia had to remark on the fact that her voice sounded even more emotionless than his. That was a first. "I have something to discuss with you."

"I assumed you did," Rukia replied, spreading her free hand out on the top of the table and separating her fingers slowly.

"Never assume," he cut in dryly, she could tell—even from across the phone—that he was frowning at her, "It's unbecoming of a Kuchiki…"

Rukia's eyes rolled to the top of her head and she sighed. _Wait for it…_

"… As was your behavior in the dealings of the hostile takeover between Suigetsu Incorporated and the Gotei Corporation."

She remained silent but that didn't seem to bother her brother in the least.

"To betray the very company that you work for—the same company from which I receive forty three and one quarter percent of my products from—in favor of another and then to get fired from both is disgraceful. You were brought down by your own trickery and deception. Not only that, but to do it so publically and with such a powerful _company_. You've brought great shame onto the Kuchiki name. I have received hundreds of calls from your relatives demanding your disownment and I can say with complete certainty that I have considered it."

His voice remained even throughout his entire lecture and Rukia did not move from her space at the table. She did not even put her hand to the bridge of her nose and rub, as was customary when she was greatly irritated. She didn't even say a word.

"Therefore, I have decreed that in order for you to regain the approval of the family, you must agree to wed your fourth cousin by marriage. His name is Atsuya Kuchiki and he is the owner of a rapidly expanding company in Eastern Asia. Therefore, the requirements of the family shall be dealt with as well as the requirements I have set forth for my last will and testament."

Rukia blinked once and was then silent.

At this point, even Byakuya seemed a bit ruffled by her lack of participation in the conversation. She heard him clear his throat and then scratch his name onto a piece of paper. "Would you like to comment?"

Rukia retained her silence for only a moment longer before calmly drawing in a deep, deep, breath and exhaling gingerly.

"Byakuya," she never called him by his first name. Although she couldn't see his reaction, she knew he was probably surprised. "I would like to tell you something. I would also like you undivided attention. Are you capable of that?"

Momo, sitting across from her at the table and listlessly pretending not to listen in on her conversation, raised her head at the sound of Rukia's voice.

"Proceed." Byakuya said in a voice as chilled as ice.

"Excellent," Rukia's tone had not changed; her voice was still as hollow as it had been when she first answered the phone. She was not going to be goaded into the petty exertions brought on by anger.

"Byakuya," she said, quietly, softly, emptily, "You may shove your proposal so far up your ass that it goes through you entire body and comes out of your throat."

Momo's eyes widened and her jaw seemingly became separated from the rest of her head.

But Rukia wasn't finished, she continued in a voice as quiet and as deadly as she had ever used. "You may not have realized it, but since I was adopted into the Kuchiki Clan I have been nothing but the perfect Kuchiki. I have always gotten spectacular marks, and I have completed high school, college, and graduate school in record time. I was accepted as the youngest woman ever to be the second in command at the legal division of the Gotei Corporation. I have always been polite, I have always kept my tongue around my so-called relatives, and I have never asked for anything in return."

"Now, if I should address the first issue you presented. Never once did I _knowingly_ sign papers explicitly saying that I had direct knowledge of a hostile takeover. My part in this has been completely fabricated, and if you feel the need to believe a few hack newspapers over the word of your own sister then my opinion of you and my belief in you has just dropped dramatically."

"With regards to the second subject you have presented. I must say that, while I have tried to gain the approval of the extensive members of the Kuchiki family, they will forever view me as a street rat whose sister seduced you into making me a part of their clique. I will never have their approval so I see no need to rectify the situation as is just so they can bury me in shame for the rest of my life."

"As for the third matter you broached. In the process of learning that I had been framed to take the fall for the hostile takeover of the Gotei Corporation, I also learned that I was betrayed by the man that I loved… in more ways than one. I am in the process of grieving at the loss of the one person I thought to be my soul mate. That you would even suggest an arranged marriage for me is insulting, disgusting, presumptuous, antediluvian, and undignified. I'm especially surprised that a man of your stature would stoop to such low levels. I couldn't care if you were begging me for this on your deathbed. I will not marry until I wish and I will never allow you to choose my husband for me. You may tell the rest of the Kuchiki family that I refuse. You may even quote me on the 'shove it up your ass' comment if you'd like."

She stopped speaking and looked up at Momo. Her jaw was now on the floor and her eyes were popping completely out of her head.

She distinctly heard her brother rearranging papers on his desk. "Is that all?"

Rukia nodded once, "Yes, Byakuya, that is all."

"Excellent," he said, his voice unchanged from the beginning of their conversation. "Goodbye."

"Goodbye brother," Rukia said softly. She retracted the phone from her ear and pressed the end button. She flipped it shut and placed it back on the table. She stared at it for a few moments before sighing, rising, and slowly walking back over to her couch.

Rukia turned up the volume on the home shopping channel and began staring at the old, fat, man trying to sell her vacuum cleaners.

*~*~*

"Ah," Mr. Aizen said as he entered Ichigo's office, "Glad to see you're back."

Ichigo raised his eyes and glared at the man now standing in the doorway.

Mr. Aizen 'tsked' him and shook his head, "Now now, you don't have to be like that Ichigo. I realize that you must _pine_ for Ms. Kuchiki but doesn't the fact that you're now getting half of her salary in addition to your own make up for her absence?"

"No." Ichigo didn't even have to think about that one.

"Ah, of course…" he sighed, crossing his arms over his chest and allowing his hand to come up and brush a stray piece of hair from his face. He wore it slicked back all the time now. His glasses were gone too. Ichigo snarled softly and felt disgusted at how sadistic the man looked. Mr. Aizen shrugged a shoulder and shook his head, "Yes, well, I'm sure you're just missing your little desk forays." Ichigo's stomach dropped and his eyes narrowed. He briefly wondered if he'd be able to beat his boss to a bloody pulp and get away with it.

Mr. Aizen lifted one corner of his mouth as he surveyed Ichigo's reaction. Only when he was finished smirking at him for a good ten seconds did he close his eyes and sigh. His expression made him look like he was trying to savor something delicious. "Tell me, is she really as tight as she looks? I wouldn't mind if—"

Ichigo was out of his desk and had his fist planted in the bastards' shirt before he could say another word. He slammed Mr. Aizen's back against the frame of the door and narrowed his eyes until they were nothing more than razor slits. His forearm was pressed snugly against Mr. Aizen's windpipe and he was just longing to push it in further.

A cruel smile curled onto Mr. Aizen's features and he chuckled lightly at the venom in Ichigo's face. He was panting angrily and his face was flushed with color.

"Watch yourself Kurosaki," Mr. Aizen hissed, his voice dropping to disgustingly decrepit levels. "I don't think you realize just how far I'm willing to go to get what I want."

"If you go near her," Ichigo breathed, his forearm pressing even tighter and tighter onto Mr. Aizen's front. "I will _end_ you in the most violent way possible."

Before Ichigo could even blink a fist as hard a diamonds pummeled into his stomach. He grunted and doubled over, feeling another hand come up to his shoulder, gripping the tendons tightly. Ichigo hissed angrily and was about to react when he was pushed violently away.

Ichigo looked up with murder written in his eyes.

Mr. Aizen looked as cool as possible. He brushed apiece of disrupted hair away from his face and pushed it back so it joined the rest. He calmly looked over at a panting Ichigo and smiled, "I'll overlook this little breach in conduct. I see that you are still distressed over the loss of your business partner… even though it's been two whole days. However, I expect you to be completely ready to work fully as the head of legal at the new Suigetsu Incorporated come tomorrow… and all subsequent days after that."

Ichigo wheezed from the punch delivered to his stomach but did not say another word. He gritted his teeth together and swallowed angrily.

Mr. Aizen only smiled and nodded once. He slowly exited, making sure to leave the door completely open. Ichigo watched as his form disappeared from the doorway and then into the hallway. He grunted in frustration, straightened up—with slight difficulty—and winced. He knew he'd have a bruise there tomorrow. He gingerly rubbed his stomach and snarled. Who knew that that rat bastard could punch so hard?

"_Tell me, is she really as tight as she looks? I wouldn't mind if—"_

Ichigo strode lividly over to his desk and slammed his powerful fist into the wooden surface. He pulled it back a few moments later and watched as his knuckles began to bleed. He blinked at them but realized, after a moment, that he actually didn't care. It was better that he feel something than nothing at all… right?

"No one is going to touch her," he snarled angrily, watching the red liquid ooze out of his fingers. "No one… no one but me…"

He fell into his chair and pressed a hand against his face.

_It's been two days,_ he thought miserably. _Two whole fucking days._

The familiar feeling of his heart caving in on itself started again inside of his chest. He shook his head and pressed his fingers to his eyes. A blinking message on his computer went unread as he tried hard to block out the memories of what had happened between him and Rukia last Monday.

Yet try as he might he couldn't get her out of his head. Images of her tears even permeated his _dreams_. He had barely slept this entire week. He missed the feeling of having her beside him. Hell, he missed her _all_ the time. Ever since the beginning of their "_relationship_" he had never been away from her for more than a few days. They were always at work together or at one another's apartments.

But now… being without her for a straight week… it was like he had just quit the most addictive drug possible cold turkey. He wanted her so badly…

He _needed_ her.

"Shit, Rukia…" he balefully looked over at the open window and thought about how he had barely lived for the past week.

Last night, he had gone to his father's house in an attempt to try and talk to his dad about what had happened.

Tried being the operative word.

He could barely force himself to open his mouth. He had wanted to tell his dad but he just _couldn't_. All that had occurred was silence. He had sat with his fathers and his sisters, just eating quietly at the table. A cloud of heaviness covered the air around them. Even Isshin hadn't been as animated as he usually was, possibly sedated by his depressed son.

_Yuzu chewed slowly on her food and eyed her brother slowly. Karin, sitting beside Yuzu, sipped on her cup of water and watched her older brother as well, even the ever-animated Isshin was silent and staring at his son as if he had grown two extra heads._

_Twenty minutes later this was still the case._

"_Ichigo…" Yuzu began, swallowing softly. "I—Is something wrong?"_

"_Yeah Ichigo," Karin remarked, her surly voice oddly comforting yet still curious, "What the hell's the matter with you?"_

"_Nothing," he replied quietly, not even bothering to snap at either of his sisters for being nosy. His voice lacked everything but exhaustion. He simply stared at his plate and tried to think of something to say._

_Isshin remained silent as he munched on his meal. Ichigo squirmed in his seat and tried to swallow the meager portions of steak he was stuffing down his throat. He glanced at the empty space beside him and remembered how he had eaten Christmas dinner with Rukia at this very table. He choked lightly on his food when he remembered what he had done to her in his old room._

_His heart sank lower and lower into his chest._

_It was then that this father had to ask the one question that would make Ichigo begin to tremble._

_He folded his hands under his chin, turned his intense gaze to Ichigo, and carved his mouth into a very straight line. "So… son, what is Rukia doing today?"_

_Ichigo wished he could have stiffened at the comment. He wished he could have just looked down at his plate and said 'fine' and continue eating. He wished he could just pretend like everything was okay._

_But it wasn't._

_His head snapped up instead of staying still. He turned towards his father and sent him a look that was as baleful and as filled with sorrow as anyone could ever imagine._

_Isshin's eyes immediately widened and he released a quick breath. "Ichigo… I'm sorry. What… what… ha—?"_

"_I'm leaving," he choked, rising from his cushioned seat and moving quickly away. He shoved his hands into his pockets and strode briskly away from the rest of his family. He threw open the door and moved outside as quickly as he could. The neon lights of the clinic threw his hair and his scowl into bright perspective._

_It also illuminated his wetly glimmering eyes._

"_Ichigo!" Karin shouted. Yuzu's voice soon followed in a desperate plea. Ichigo only walked faster. Distantly, he heard his father tell the girls that it would be best if they just left him alone for now._

_Ichigo swallowed the large lump in his throat that was telling him just how much his chest was aching. He got into his car and had to fight off the mental image of Rukia and him kissing in the front seats._

_Rukia…_

A knock on his door appeared and he jerked his head up quickly. His small reverie passed out of his mind and he blinked several times before finally looking towards the door.

"Oh shit," he grumbled, running his hand down his face in agitation and not even bothering to disguise the volume or the tone of his voice.

"Something bothering you Mr. Kurosaki?" Inoue asked cheerily as she bounced merrily into his office.

_My office…_

"Yes," he snarled, not able to hide his contempt and distaste for her any longer. "_You_ just walked into this office."

"Oh," she looked back to the door but didn't seem at all affronted, "Yes… I suppose it squeaks, doesn't it? I bet you hate when it does that. I do too! I can't stand squeaky things! Squeaky doors, squeaky chairs, and even squeaky voices—"

"Then how did you live with yourself for all of these years?" He demanded.

Inoue didn't even miss a beat; she chuckled happily, causing her enormously large breasts to bounce up and down. Not to mention, in the shirt she was wearing, he could swear her nipples almost rose above the fabric. "That was funny!" She giggled, as if he needed her affirmation to make it so.

"What do you want, Inoue?" He demanded, quite fed up with her and all the shit she was pulling right now.

"I was wondering when you wanted to go on a date," she simpered happily, her smile brightly shining on her face. "Tonight would be good for me, but then again, any night would be great so long as you and I were together."

Ichigo's jaw dropped open and he felt his eyes bug out of his head.

"A… _what_?" He demanded in a choked voice. He had to swallow twice to keep himself from vomiting.

Inoue cocked her head to the side and laughed happily. "Our date silly! You remember? Now that Rukia Kuchiki is gone we can start going out!"

_Like hell._

Ichigo opened his mouth and was completely ready to tell her to fuck off when a niggling in his gut told him to stop.

_Think about this,_ he told himself slowly, his mouth closing off his sharp retort. _Just think for a minute._

Like a movie on fast forward, his conversation with Tatsuki ran quickly through his head.

_I need to know what was going on. I need to know what's happening. I have been sitting on my ass for two whole days doing absolutely nothing while Rukia has been suffering, Aizen has been doing god-knows-what, and… and Inoue…_

His eyes widened as he stared at the buxom woman in front of him. She was smiling vapidly and giggling rambunctiously. Her feet shifted from side to side as her breasts jiggled up and down. Ichigo's eyes raked her over and he snarled.

_She sure as hell doesn't look like she'd be of any use to someone with a diabolical and complex plan._ He thought disgustedly, thinking of Aizen and his slicked back hair.

His gut tingled again.

_But maybe… maybe that's what he needed,_ he thought slowly, _maybe he needed someone who was too dim to question orders. Someone who was too simple to throw him off his game._

For once, Ichigo looked up at Inoue with new, and more speculative, eyes. She grinned back widely.

_Did she have a part in all of this? If so… what was her part?_

He closed his eyes and tried to think of what she had said to him not but two days ago:

"_Because, if I lived five lifetimes I'd want to be with you for each one. Because I know that you and Rukia Kuchiki are done. Because I know that she tricked you into loving her. And because I know that I can replace that miniature witch in your heart as quickly as you can say 'yes.'"_

His eyes opened and he looked at the woman now standing before him.

She _knew_ something.

His mind started to whirl and his jaw started to clench. First of all, how had Inoue known that they were finished—his throat closed at the thought—as a couple?

Granted, after she had seen the fight that they had had... well, anyone else could have assumed that they were finished. To see Rukia running away from him like that, crying, and shoving herself into an elevator… it would have seemed definitive enough for anyone. But still, on _that_ day nothing had been definitive, nothing had been certain, and nothing had been immediately set in stone.

His mind whirled and he swallowed angrily. He hadn't thought much of it at the time but now, the phrase: 'tricked you into loving her' definitely meant more to him right now than it ever had. How had Inoue known that he had fallen for Rukia? His cheeks tinged slightly pink at the thought. He guessed that anyone could assume that if they had been watching the two closely enough. And he had a feeling that Inoue had been watching both he and Rukia _very _closely.

_Stalker._

However it was more than just that. He knew that she had been obsessed with him for the longest time but… how far would she have gone to ensure that she ended up with him? Hell, she had even made up some lie about having a dog to trick him into coming home with her.

_Damn, I sound like some kind of toy to be won at a competition,_ he thought angrily.

The question remained… would Orihime Inoue use drastic measures to make sure that Rukia was taken out of the picture?

The answer to that question was a definite yes.

"_I can replace that miniature witch in your heart as quickly as you can say 'yes.'"_

He felt like snorting and screaming at the remembrance of such a statement. Not only did he know that such a thing could—and would—never happen, he also knew that if anyone ever thought they could replace Rukia anywhere in his life they were disturbed.

Then again, he already knew Inoue wasn't right in the head.

He shook his head slightly and brought himself back to the question at hand: What did Inoue know?

Even though his stomach was roiling with hatred, disgust, and all-out revulsion, he forced a smile onto his face, raised his head to the buxom young woman standing in front of him, swallowed hard, and asked:

"Pick you up at eight?"

*~*~*

"Beverly Robinson, New York Realty, how may I be of service to you today?"

The chipper voice on the other end of the line had Rukia Kuchiki wanting to claw her ears off in disgust. How anyone could be that cheerful while her life—and her friends' life—was in complete and utter shambles was beyond her. It felt like the entire world should be mourning along with the two of them.

"I'm looking to move to New York in the very near future," Rukia told her, trying hard to get it so that her voice sounded at least a bit human. It didn't work. "I'm looking for something that is at least two bedrooms, one bathroom, a kitchen, a living room, and a dining area."

"I assume you'd like this in a safer section of the city?" Beverly asked her happily, the busy scratching of a notepad accompanying her delighted voice.

Rukia wanted to stab herself in the ear with a pen. "If at all possible, yes."

"Hmm… do you have any children ma'am?"

"Miss," Rukia corrected her, feeling a lump the size of a golf ball enter into her throat, she tried to swallow it but to no avail. "And the answer is no. It will be me and my friend."

"Excellent, may I ask what price range you'll be looking for?"

Rukia told her while slowly massaging the areas around her temples. Beverly took a few minutes to chat with her about housing prices in New York and how difficult it was to find the right places for the right people. "But don't worry," she laughed, "I'll find one for you in a little over four days! Is that good for you Miss… oh, I'm sorry, I'm afraid I don't know your name." She giggled and Rukia fought the urge to retch.

"Rukia Kuchiki," she said stiffly, "And I'm sure that four days will be plenty of time for you to find an apartment to my specifications." She said thank you to Beverly-I-had-eight-shots-of-espresso-this-morning-Robinson and swiftly closed her phone. She gently took it away from her ear and sighed. She tossed it onto the coffee table in front of her and returned to watching the home shopping channel.

"So…" Momo whispered dryly from her spot on the couch opposite Rukia. Her eyes were red and her nose was slightly dripping. She had just finished another crying-bout over Toshiro. Rukia looked at her and sighed; she wished she could have another cry fest over _him_. It just seemed like all of her tears had been completely used up. She just felt empty inside…

Well, not entirely empty. It felt like there was an enormous rock inside of her chest; sometimes it resided in her stomach and caused her to feel like the wind had been knocked out of her entire body. Sometimes it decided to rest in her lungs, making her breathing become sharp wheezes and gasps. However most of the time her giant rock of depression liked to press itself directly against her heart, where it felt the need to smush out every bit of remaining emotion from her existence.

Stupid rock.

Momo turned to her and placed a bitter smile on her lips, "New York?"

Rukia nodded once and turned back to the petite woman on the screen. She was showing off fat and overpriced diamond studs.

"New York."

*~*~*

Ichigo pulled out his cell phone and quickly dialed Tatsuki's number. She answered on what might have been the third ring. Ichigo couldn't tell, he was too busy trying to suppress the feeling of utter dread now seeping into his stomach.

He swallowed and tried to will images of him on a _date_ with Orihime Inoue out of his head. The two of them… at a table… together…

He shuddered and realized he couldn't do it. What's more than that, he felt like he was about ready to throw up all of the meals he had eaten in the past _week_.

"Ichigo?" Tatsuki's voice snapped him out of his living nightmare and he fought back a shudder.

"I'm here Tatsuki," he sighed and stood from his chair, staring distantly out of the window.

She made a small sound of acknowledgement in the back of her throat and began to munch on something. "Do you have anything to give me?" She demanded, her voice muffled by her full mouth.

Ichigo raised an eyebrow, "Always to the point."

"I'm a journalist. Deal."

"I need you," he began, he took a deep breath and was almost ready to start talking when he heard Tatsuki chuckle.

"Never thought I'd hear you say those three little words to me," she snorted playfully.

"Bitch," he snorted, cracking a smile for the first time in two and a half days, "You didn't let me finish." He drew in a deep breath and continued, "I need you to help me get the cooperation of the KPD."

A small choking sound began on the other end of the line and Ichigo had a sneaking suspicion that whatever Tatsuki had been eating had just gone down the wrong pipe.

Three minutes of coughing later, Tatsuki ended up sputtering: "_Why?_"

Ichigo bit his lip and looked quickly around the rest of his office in order to make sure that he was completely alone. He turned back to the window and scowled at the people milling about the courtyard below. "I've been thinking about what happened on Monday."

"As well you should," Tatsuki interrupted sarcastically.

"And I _think_," Ichigo continued with a slight growl in his voice, "That this thing goes deeper than anything we could have thought."

For once, Tatsuki didn't have a quick retort.

Ichigo pressed his hand to the cold glass and watched as it fogged around his fingers. "I don't have any proof to support this Tatsuki but my gut is telling me that there's more to this whole situation than either of us could have ever imagined."

After a moment she mumbled something unintelligible and sighed, "You trust your gut?"

He shrugged lightly and muttered, "I trust it more than I do my brain."

Tatsuki didn't even have to think about it before verbally shrugging and saying, "Sure, why the hell not? Meet you at the KPD in twenty."

Ichigo nodded and let out a sigh of relief. "Excellent. See you in twenty."

*~*~*

Ichigo knew that the minute he walked into the Karakura Police Department and asked for Detective Renji Abarai that he was not going to leave this place without some sort of bruise or broken bone.

It turned out he was correct when it came to the first injury. The moment he stepped inside of the Karakura Police Department and Renji Abarai spotted him—well, spotted his hair more likely—said detective launched himself out of his chair, crossed the entire breadth of the department floor in three steps, cocked his fist back, and pummeled it into Ichigo's face. Pain exploded in his cheek and he staggered back a few steps, his hands going to cup his throbbing jaw.

"_Shit,_" Ichigo cursed, rubbing the already bruising skin again and again.

"You fucking bastard," Abarai seethed, bringing his fist back again shoving it deeply into Ichigo's stomach. The already bruised muscle screamed in protest but no sound escaped Ichigo's mouth.

All of the wind that had previously been inside of him was knocked out with the forceful blow. His body staggered back into another officer's desk and behind him, Tatsuki—who had entered only a moment later—let out a surprised yelp at the sight of her friend doubled over on a stranger's desk and quickly rushed over to him.

"Ichigo!" She gasped, her jaw clenching spastically as she reached forward and gripped his bicep. She helped to heave him up and off of a random stapler he had crushed underneath of his torso.

"What's this _Kurosaki_?" Renji bellowed, Ichigo looked up and saw that two detectives—one with a shiny bald head and the other with a slick pair of sunglasses crossing his eyes—were currently restraining him. The veins in Renji's neck were bulging out of the skin and his eyes looked evil enough to murder. "You've screwed over my best friend and now you're already onto some other skank?! I'm going to fucking _kill_ you!"

"Cool it Abarai," the man with the sunglasses barked, jerking his arms back and holding onto the raging man even tighter.

"Yeah Renji," the bald man hissed as he pulled Renji—who was still straining to get to Ichigo—back hard, "You just attacked a _civilian_. You're lucky as shit that the lieutenant isn't here today."

"If this guy makes a report your ass is grass, Abarai," sunglasses-man grunted.

"I don't care," Renji seethed murderously, shoving himself forward and escaping from the confines of his two bodyguards.

Ichigo narrowed his eyes and tensed his body in an attempt to receive another blow. Oddly enough, he didn't mind the thought of Renji Abarai kicking his ass until he was no more than a bloody pulp. Feeling something… something besides a horrible, empty, gut-wrenching, pain inside of his stomach every moment of every day was completely welcome in his book.

_Besides,_ he thought sourly as he watched Abarai come at him again, as if in slow motion, _it's not like I don't deserve it. I should have looked out for Rukia. I should have protected her. Damn, how am I going to get her back if I can't even watch out for her in the first place?_

The punch that he guessed was intended for his face, however, never came. The slow motion had indeed stopped but, wait… _where in the hell did Abarai go?_

Ichigo blinked up at the two men who had only seconds ago been holding Renji Abarai back from throttling him. Their hands were absentmindedly clutching useless air and they tilted their heads to the side as if Renji had possibly phased through their hold.

It was then that the three of them looked down.

Tatsuki Arisawa, snarling but not breathing even a _little_ bit eccentrically, was crouched on the ground. Beneath her, Renji Abarai was lying flat on his stomach with a dazed look in his eyes. Tatsuki had one knee pressed into the center of his back as well as one hand currently pinning Renji's beefy arm in what looked to be a very uncomfortable hold.

"Get off of me!" Renji hissed, jerking uselessly against the ground.

"No," Tatsuki said in a voice as harsh as his. Her eyes bored a hole into the back of his head and Ichigo watched as the amount of fire in her gaze increased, "The name is Tatsuki Arisawa—"

Every person in the room froze.

"—Journalist for _The Karakura Ledger_. Now, I came in here with my _friend _in order to ask you for your help regarding a certain _friend_ of yours. If you behave like you should and stop acting like a whiny little bitch I'll kindly forget about this little _police brutality_ incident." She blew a piece of hair away from her face and increased the pressure on his back. "Do we have an _understanding_?"

Ichigo quickly looked around the room and noticed that every human inside of it seemed frozen in time. Every single person was waiting to hear what Renji's response would be. Then again, he shouldn't have been this surprised to see everyone still as statues. From what Ichigo knew, people in the KPD feared, respected, and despised Tatsuki Arisawa. She had written several articles that had praised the Karakura Police Department and had even occasionally helped them solve intense cases involving high-profile cases. However, she was also known for writing scathing articles about their sporadic brutality and intermittent ineptitude.

Ichigo could swear that he'd be able to hear a pin drop. He turned back to the man on the floor and rubbed his jaw in irritation at having to wait.

Finally, Renji let out a huff of air, swallowed a minute amount of his pride, and grunted, "_Fine._"

"Excellent," Tatsuki chipped happily, she shifted off of him with the litheness of a dancer and the absolute power of a tiger.

Renji got up off of the floor in one swift move and quickly glanced over at Ichigo. Said man only returned a bland look. With one more furious glare, he whipped his body around to the woman who had so easily held him hostage.

"Look you," Abarai huffed angrily, spinning around to face her, "If you think that you're going to wr… wr… ite…" His mouth parted softly and he blinked his eyes twice, as if to clear them.

Ichigo had to roll his eyes. Obviously, Renji hadn't gotten a good enough look at Tatsuki when she first walked in the door.

Tatsuki raised an eyebrow and gave him the once over. When she was finished she looked up into his sharp irises and smirked. Ichigo felt like gagging. He knew what that look meant. Hell, he had used it on Rukia several times before.

_Rukia…_

"Tatsuki," he said, shooting pain crawled up his jaw as he spoke. He brought his hand up to it and rubbed it again.

_At least Renji has a good enough right hook,_ he thought, focusing his attention back on the journalist and the cop in front of him.

Tatsuki didn't take her eyes off of the detective in front of her as she answered Ichigo.

"Yeah?"

Ichigo rolled his eyes, okay, talking to her was out. "Abarai, can we go somewhere to talk?"

After a moment, Renji raised his eyes and looked over at Ichigo. To Ichigo's horror—but unfortunately not to his surprise—he had a rather glazed look in his eyes. "Uh… sure," he blinked once and then must have remembered that he hated Ichigo's everlasting guts. His glazed face was replaced with a nasty scowl and he roughly jerked his thumb over to a hallway, apparently leading towards a more enclosed office. "Yeah, let's go dirt-bag."

He pointed quickly to the hall and Ichigo went first, Tatsuki followed him slowly—her eyes still lingering on Renji—while Abarai brought up the rear. Incidentally, Ichigo could almost swear that Renji was staring at _Tatsuki's_ rear along the way.

_Okay… try not to be too grossed out. Maybe he's into the whole dominatrix thing._ Ichigo shuddered at the thought. Hell, he shuddered when he realized that he was actually thinking about his enemies' sexual preferences. _Gross._

Ichigo, not knowing where to go anyway, quickly opened the door to what seemed to be an empty interview room. Shrugging, he stepped inside and held the door open for Tatsuki. She entered next and finally, Renji came in and closed the door behind him.

The moment the door slammed shut—and the moment Renji finally took his eyes off of Tatsuki's form—Abarai turned to Ichigo and snarled. The murderous look was back.

"Give me one reason why I shouldn't rip your head off," he snarled, taking two steps towards Ichigo.

"I'll give you two," Tatsuki chimed in, "It's called police brutality."

"Fine," he spat, still advancing. Renji came towards Ichigo until he was only a few inches away from his face. His glaring eyes were peering into Ichigo's soulless ones and he was breathing with the tenacity of an enraged bull. "But I warned you… I warned you that if you hurt her I'd come after you with everything I had behind me."

Ichigo's eyes narrowed and his heart rate began to increase. "Don't you think I fucking know that?" He hissed dangerously, anger quickly breaking through his placid expression.

Abarai's eyes widened in soft surprise but after only a second the anger was back. "Then why'd you do it?"

"_I didn't_," Ichigo snarled.

Renji's eyes widened and he took two quick steps back. Ichigo thought he was going to be punched again when the detective shot a small look over in Tatsuki's direction. Growling softly, he fiercely slammed his fist down onto the metal interview table instead of into Ichigo's face. "Do you think I'm stupid?" He shouted, his face becoming nearly as red as his hair, "I read the papers! I know what happened between Gotei and Suigetsu! I know what you did to Rukia!"

"I didn't do any of that!" Ichigo bellowed, feeling the intense need to punch a hole in something… preferably Renji Abarai's head.

"You lying piece of sh—"

"He's got a point, actually," Tatsuki said, cutting Renji off quickly. The detective quieted immediately and turned around to her, deftly raising a tattooed eyebrow. She crossed her arms and shrugged. "Just listen to him without shoving your fist in his face. He went to law school you know and he actually _does_ have a brain underneath all of that tangerine tinted hair. He might just surprise you."

"Thanks Tatsuki," Ichigo spat bitterly, his eyes still pinned on the now stupidly-grinning detective in front of him. His turned his head back to Ichigo after a moment. His eyes were narrow but at least his mouth was shut.

"Listen Abarai," he said, crossing his arms over his chest and leveling a wicked glare in Renji's direction. "I had no knowledge of the fact that Suigetsu was going to take over Gotei. I was tricked into signing the papers that only _said_ I did. What happened to Rukia… I never wanted it to happen. I never meant to hurt her—"

"But you did," Renji snapped, "You hurt my best friend Kurosaki. I can't just let that go."

"I know," Ichigo groaned, rubbing the bridge of his nose with his thumb and forefinger. "I know that I hurt her… but I'm going to fix it."

One tattooed eyebrow rose, "How?"

"Tonight I'm going on a date," he sighed, his entire form shivering in disgust—again—at the very thought of going out with Inoue. He looked back up at Renji and saw that his jaw was down, his eyes were horridly wide, and his entire body looked like it was shaking. Ichigo quickly barked, "I don't want to! But I think she had something to do with what happened."

His anger simmered down fractionally but his eyes were still as livid as hell. "And why do you think she has something to do with it?"

"I think something more complex is going on," Ichigo said very seriously, "Something that goes a lot deeper than just what this all appears to be. I don't have any proof but… I… my gut is telling me that…"

Renji narrowed his eyes and crossed his arms over his chest, "What are you thinking Kurosaki?"

Ichigo turned his gaze to Renji and allowed his honeyed-amber stare to pierce right through to him. "I think that this might even be connected to the rape of Momo Hinamori and _possibly _the attempted murder of Byakuya Kuchiki."

Ichigo's thought that once he got it out it might be easier to think about. But no, his stomach dropped even more… if that was possible.

Renji's and Tatsuki's eyes widened at the same time. They quickly glanced towards one another and then back to Ichigo. His stare had not wavered once.

"Are you suggesting," Tatsuki said quietly, her voice breathless, "That the hostile takeover of the Gotei Corporation by Suigetsu Incorporated was in some way connected to the shooting of Byakuya Kuchiki _and _the rape of Momo Hinamori?"

"I haven't had much to do these past few days except think about what happened," Ichigo told them quietly. "And I know this sounds crazy but… hear me out… okay?" He gave them bland looks and waited until their faces switched from _shocked mode_ to _listening mode_.

"Think about it," Ichigo continued just as quietly, "The Kuchiki Corporation has two major suppliers that it employs in order to keep up the military contract they have. They have others just those are just small time companies. The two big ones were Gotei and Suigetsu. Now that Suigetsu has taken over Gotei it has a monopoly when it comes to supplying the Kuchiki Corporation."

He looked up and raised an eyebrow. "You two following me?"

"We're not idiots Kurosaki," Tatsuki told him, taking a seat in one of the interrogation chairs and propping her head up on her fist, her eyes now pinned on him.

"Well I know you aren't," Ichigo muttered, shooting Renji a quick glance.

"Watch it Kurosaki," he snarled in response.

Ichigo just smirked, crossed his arms over his chest, and continued, "Now, throw Byakuya Kuchiki's shooting into the mix. If the assassin had actually succeeded and killed him, the company would be in a wreck. You all know about Kuchiki's information policy. He has maybe two of three top people who run the business with him, and even those guys are on a need-to-know basis. Trust me, I've tried to do business with them before. Kuchiki practically does it all himself, they didn't know a single fucking thing. Hell, even the board doesn't know what he does most of the time. They just know that he keeps the company making billions of dollars annually."

"If Kuchiki died," Renji began to murmur, taking up Ichigo's line of thinking, "That would leave his company in a complete mess. Then the entire military contract would be up for grabs. If Suigetsu made the move at the right time it'd only make sense that they'd try to get that contract. They now make about ninety four percent of the products that are specified in the government contract."

Ichigo nodded in agreement. Tatsuki, however, frowned and muttered, "But the attempted assassination of Kuchiki was in October. It's only mid-January now. Why would they put the hit out on him that early in the game?"

"Because," Ichigo interjected quickly, "If Kuchiki did die the company would try to put up a front. They'd try to make it seem like the company was running fine without him. But since Kuchiki likes to play everything extremely close to the chest, there would be at least a few months before the company really started to signs of collapse."

"Giving Suigetsu the perfect opportunity to swoop in and take whatever they wanted." Tatsuki finished for him, nodding her head and hurriedly scribbling something down in her notebook.

"That would make them the largest and most powerful company in at least forty countries," Renji breathed.

"But what about Momo Hinamori?" Tatsuki demanded, "Isn't she just that girl who was engaged to Toshiro Hitsugaya?"

Ichigo's ears picked up on the tense change and he froze. "What do you mean she _was?_"

Tatsuki nodded solemnly, "I have a friend who works the wedding circuit for section E of the paper. He was given the information that Hitsugaya called off the wedding."

His eyes were as round as dinner plates, "Was there a reason?" Ichigo demanded in a choked voice.

The only woman in the room shrugged, "Not that I know of, but Ichigo… you don't call off a wedding for little things. It had to be something huge."

Silence fell in the room.

Ichigo was the first to say it. "Like adultery?"

Renji whistled loudly, "Damn… then I guess I'm glad it happened before the wedding. I've seen _way_ too many ugly situations where the groom finds out _after_."

"You idiot!" Ichigo snarled, shooting a lethal glare over at Renji, who immediately bristled, "Not her! Don't you even remember when you showed up at the hospital? Momo was _raped_, you insensitive ass."

"I know that," Renji growled, "I was only making a little _comment_."

"Well keep them to yourself," Ichigo hissed, he looked back at Tatsuki and quickly wrapped his fingers around the back of a wobbling chair, gripping the wood hard and squeezing frequently. He looked up at Renji and frowned, "Did you ever get the results of her rape kit? Urine included?"

He shook his head. "There was a huge drug case that came in a few weeks ago. Crack cocaine, heroine, marijuana, prescription drugs, and tons of others. The lab's been backed up for weeks identifying it all."

"Shit," Ichigo snarled softly, his hands gripping the wood even tighter.

Tatsuki stood from her respective chair and began pacing. She had her lower lip firmly clenched between her teeth. She shook her head and her spiky hair tossed from one side to the other, "But… why would this be connected to the takeover Ichigo? I'm not following."

"Yeah," Renji huffed, "Me neither. Care to explain Tropicana?"

Ichigo's glare could have melted a glacier, Renji weathered it just fine and Tatsuki looked slightly amused by the new nickname. Ichigo brushed it off and tried to focus on not breaking the chair in front of him.

"Momo Hinamori," he murmured, his voice low and his body tense, "'Soon to be Momo Hitsugaya'…" he looked up at Renji and Tatsuki, both standing next to each other on the opposite side of the room. "Don't you understand? Hitsugaya was being trained to take over the Gotei Corporation. He was the second in command, well, probably more like the first because Yamamoto's been sick so often. Everyone in the business world knows that Yamamoto was going to pass the torch as soon as he could and retire in peace."

A figurative light bulb flashed over Tatsuki's head. "That must mean that Hitsugaya's more into the business dealings than Yamamoto. Since he _was_ preparing to get hold of the company soon," she continued flawlessly, her frown becoming deeper and deeper with each word she spoke. "Just imagine being the practical head of a multi-billion dollar company and having your fiancée raped a few weeks before your wedding… all this while trying to see over a huge merger? I don't think so."

_Exactly._

"The timing is just _too_ convenient if you ask me," Renji added in gruffly, crossing his arms over his impressive chest as he speculated. "That Hitsugaya dude must have been so distracted that even if hostile activities were going on he wouldn't have been able to tell. Hell, the woman he loves had just been _raped_, for gods' sake! What decent guy wouldn't be spazzing and missing out on work?"

"Precisely," Ichigo muttered, biting his bottom lip and thinking about all the pain that Momo must be going through.

_Momo and Rukia going through hell together…_ he thought miserably, a headache thudding viciously behind his temple. _I'll make it up to them. I swear. On my mother's grave I swear._

Ichigo clenched his teeth together tightly. Tatsuki, who had finally finished writing all of this down in her notebook, looked up at him, as if she was waiting for something more. Renji, after staring listlessly off into space for a moment, probably contemplating what he had just deduced, turned his gaze to Ichigo and hardened his eyes.

"Alright… so it kind of makes sense. A lot of sense. But it's still just suspicions. We can't get warrants on suspicion alone. Do you have a plan to try and prove any of this?" He demanded, walking forward and shoving his hands into his belt, taking an extremely dominant stance in front of the immobile Ichigo.

Ichigo only nodded his head once. "I do, as a matter of fact."

Renji just rolled his eyes and sighed, bringing his hand up to rub the bridge of his nose. The action reminded him of Rukia. "Let me guess…" Abarai muttered, "You wanna play super-spy?"

Ichigo snorted and shook his head, moving back to his seat on the edge of the table. "No… but if you want to find out who did this you're going to need someone on the inside. _I'm_ on the inside. _Way _inside. I've got all the pieces of the puzzle in front of me. I just need to figure out where they go. With the help of the KPD," he nodded at Renji, "And _The Karakura Ledger_," he glanced over at Tatsuki, "I know that we can bring down the bastards responsible for doing this."

"Let me get this straight," Renji cut in stiffly, "You want to put your job and possibly even your _life_ on the line because you want to know the _truth_?" He scoffed, "What kind of business lawyer are you?"

"The kind who doesn't believe that murder, rape, and intentional deception should be used to do _business_." Ichigo shot back. He glared hard at Renji but shook his head a moment later and clenched his jaw shut, "But no… I want to do all this because…" he closed his eyes and thought of Rukia, her pert nose, her gleaming eyes, and her smiling mouth. He had destroyed all of that with the swipe of a pen. He had caused her unbelievable pain.

All because of him and his arrogant blindness.

Tatsuki and Renji remained silent as Ichigo drew himself further into his inner world, forcing himself to remember her face the moment she had entered the office on that fateful Monday. His body shuddered, his breathing became deeper, and his fists clenched together so hard that his nails broke into the skin on his palms.

Finally, he lifted his head and stared Renji straight in the eyes. "I want to do this because it is the only way I am ever going to get the woman I love back."

Silence filled the room. The loudly ticking clock on the wall was the only indication that time was actually moving forward. Renji's breathing was loud, Tatsuki's eyes were wide, and Ichigo's heart was hammering inside of his chest.

Finally, after what seemed like ages, Renji slowly nodded his head. He pursed his lips together and muttered, "What do you need?"

Relief like none other washed through Ichigo but he didn't have time to revel in the feeling. It was already six thirty in the evening. He didn't have much time before he needed to pick up Inoue for their… _date_.

"A wire," Ichigo said clearly, "I need a wire to wear tonight."

"Done," Renji said, swiftly motioning towards the door. "We'll get you one right now. I'll be in charge of all audio that is recorded tonight. I'll camp out in a van outside of the place you're taking this chick." He gave Ichigo a sour look and muttered, "It's my night off too, so you better make it worth my while."

He pulled open the door and was about ready to leave when Tatsuki surged toward him, "I'll be there too. I need some first grade primary sources if I'm going to be putting this into print."

Renji's already pursed lips became even tighter and he shook his head. "Sorry, but we don't allow civilians to sit in during stake outs."

Tatsuki didn't even look fazed, "I'm sure you'll make an exception. Besides," she gave him a swift and smirking glance, "I'm sure that even though it's connected to two felony cases, you'll _never_ get a full police investigation approved with circumstantial evidence _this_ shadowy."

Disbelief was etched on Renji's face as his jaw dropped open. His expression was clear: _How did you know?_

"I'll see you later," She said with a wink before swiftly exiting the room… pausing only long enough to pinch Renji on the butt.

Ichigo's eyes widened and he nearly choked in disbelief. Abarai turned as red as a tomato and bit his bottom lip. He went out directly after Tatsuki and Ichigo could have sworn that he heard him say: "I guess I can make an exception _just_ this once…"

Ichigo shook his head and slowly turned to look at the two way mirror behind him. In his reflection he could see many things: anticipation, fear, nerves, determination, and fatigue.

He swallowed and thought of Rukia's smiling face once again.

There was now another emotion to be added…

And it was hope.

**(A/N: Okay, so not my favorite chapter, but it does do a lot of explaining done… plus Renji, and that's always good. Don't worry though, you guys will get some IchiRuki interaction—kind of—in the next chapter.**

**I am sooooo sorry for not updating sooner. This week has been crazy and I didn't have time to edit so… ah… sorry for any grammar mistakes. To those of you who PMed me, I'm so sorry! And IchigoRukiaforever, I'm sorry you woke up so early with nothing to read. SORRY!!!**

**Also, for all of you who despise the idea of Ichigo using Orihime to get information, don't worry, she'll get her just desserts soon enough. *Cue evil laughter.***

**Oh, and I wanted to tell you guys… I think I only have two more chapters to write before this is all over. And I do mean **_**ALL**_** over. But don't panic yet, you guys have more to read than that. :)**

**One more thing before I'm gone completely. Did any other IchiRuki lovers just despise the latest chapter? Chapter 350? Ugh. Hated Inoue in it, of course. Hollow Ichigo was badass though. But getting to the point, a friend told me that the translation of the chapter isn't "she's calling me etc." but "I can hear… calling… stand up… I—I will protect!" So really, he didn't wake up for Orihime, it was just his hero/hollow complex coming out. But really, why doesn't Inoue go be useful (for once) and go heal Ishida's hand? I mean, he hurt it by protecting her. Seesh.**

**I just can't wait for Rukia to come back… sigh… just wait for FTB Tituba… just wait…**

**Okay, I've rambled enough.**

**PLEASE DON'T FORGET TO REVIEW!!!)**


	41. Chapter 40

**Disclaimer: I do not own Bleach or any Bleach affiliates.**

**_Odalisque_**

**Chapter 40**

Ichigo pulled the chair out and moved as far away from it as he could without actually letting go of it.

"Here you go Inoue," he said gingerly, allowing the young woman to sit in the seat proffered to her.

"Why thank you Mr. Kurosaki," she giggled, seating herself happily in her chair.

Ichigo clenched his jaw and he fought to keep a straight face as he walked to the other side of the table and took a seat in his own chair. He couldn't believe he was doing this. He really couldn't. Not in his wildest dreams did he ever imagine that he'd ever be on an actual _date_ with Orihime Inoue.

_Just don't think about it as a date, _he told himself forcefully, swallowing back down the revulsion in his throat. _Just think of it as some kind of an investigation. That's all this is…_

_For Rukia._

"I'm so glad we're finally doing this, Mr. Kurosaki," Inoue giggled, using exaggerated movements to smooth out the napkin on her lap. "I mean, it's been _so_ long in coming, don't you think?"

Ichigo shrugged one shoulder and sat down in his seat, pushing himself into the table just a bit. A waiter came up and asked them what they'd like to drink. Ichigo glanced at Inoue and found that she was pointedly staring at him; her gray eyes were intense and watchful. He swallowed his repulsion at the scrutiny and cleared his throat, "Ah… water."

"For me too!" Inoue chirped instantly, turning to the waiter and giving him a beatific smile, he promptly stared drooling. Ichigo wanted to snort and offer to switch places with the man.

_I mean at least he can willingly leave._

Inoue giggled softly and then turned back to Ichigo. "Did anyone ever tell you that when the light bounces off of your hair it looks like a basket of oranges?"

_Has anyone ever told you that it's considered rude to make people vomit at the dinner table?_

"No," he said, chuckling forcibly and swallowing hard, "I don't think anyone ever has."

"Well it does. Either that or a bunch of basketballs propped up against the sun. Or maybe orange jello cubes!" She giggled and put her hand to her mouth, "Everything about your hair is just so perfectly orange!" Her eyes became dreamy and she sighed, "Just like mine…"

"They're different shades," he pointed out stiffly, "Yours is closer to brown whereas mine is closer to blond."

"Either way," she said, brushing off his comment as if it were some type of fly resting momentarily on her skin, "They're both still orange. Makes you think we were kind of meant to be together. Right, Mr. Kurosaki?"

"Yeah…" Ichigo muttered, having his water set in front of him by the waiter. He listlessly picked up his menu and began looking at the choices. He had never been to this place before and for that he was glad. He hadn't wanted to bring Inoue to a place that he had wanted to take Rukia to.

"Oooh," Inoue squealed, causing several restaurant patrons to look up at her and stare in blatant dislike. Ichigo tried not to be one of them. "Doesn't the shellfish look good? Or maybe the chicken… or maybe both of them together! With peanut butter! I bet that would taste fantastic. Don't you think so?"

"Ah… without the peanut butter," Ichigo muttered, wishing that this night were over with… now. Hell, he'd prefer sitting in his bedroom, completely miserable and pining over Rukia rather than sitting in this rather nice restaurant with Orihime Inoue.

"Okay then," she sighed, putting down her menu and leaning her elbow on the table, she put her head in her hand and stared dreamily over at Ichigo. He tried not to squirm. "When you're over at my house I'll make you some of my specialties… lima beans and chicken noodle soup, chocolate spaghetti and pork rinds, escargot and red bean paste and caramel apples… all of my favorites _just_ for you. I've _never_ shared my recipes with anyone before so I'm sure you'll appreciate it."

"Sure I will," Ichigo muttered, taking up his water and gulping it down. The waiter reappeared and asked for their orders. "A salad," Ichigo muttered, "With chicken."

"Me too," Inoue said softly as she handed the menu back to their server. She looked whimsically at Ichigo and then gave him a soft wink. "You and I think alike, you know?"

"Yeah," he chuckled, obviously uncomfortable but trying to hide it, "I guess we do."

_Okay… just throw yourself into it,_ he told himself as he gripped his water glass tighter and tighter, _things are already as bad as they can be. Just… get this over with._

"Like," he began, trying to clear his throat of any obstructions before he spoke, "Like how we both had an idea to get rid of Kuchiki."

Inoue cocked her head to the side and frowned, "Which Kuchiki?"

Ichigo almost choked on air.

"_Excuse me?_" He gasped, bringing some more water up to his mouth just so he could flush out any intrusions. "D-Do you know something about Byakuya Kuchiki… as in, who _shot_ him?"

Inoue blinked at him twice before lifting her head back and laughing lightly. Ichigo just sat there; his face was as pale as a ghost and his hands were trembling slightly.

_Does Inoue know _more_ than I originally thought?_

"Oh Mr. Kurosaki!" She chuckled, her voice high and squeaky, "That imagination you have…" she waved her hand in front of her face in amusement and shook her head, "Of course I don't know anything about that! Silly!"

Mixtures of disappointment and slight relief entered into his body. As creepy and demented as he thought Inoue was he did not believe that she'd ever be able to order someone killed.

_Well, it's not that,_ he thought after a moment, _it's just that she doesn't have that kind of power._

"You and your imagination Mr. Kurosaki," she laughed again. She leaned forward and propped both of her elbows on the table. She gently linked her fingers and allowed her head to slide on top of them. Her ample breasts were both also propped on top of said table. Ichigo had to fight the look of disgust that slithered onto his face.

_Breasts like that must be such a hindrance_, he thought disgustedly, _doesn't she have back problems?_

"We have that in common, you know," she giggled, "An imagination I mean. Yours is just as lovely as mine…" she sighed theatrically and resumed her reverent staring.

"Yeah… such a lovely trait," he muttered, scratching the back of his neck with his hand. He just wanted to get his answers and get this over with. "But I meant the female Kuchiki. You know my… my former business partner."

_My lover, my friend, and the woman I want to spend the rest of my life with._

"Oh!" Orihime clapped her hands together and jiggled up and down in her seat. She looked like a young child at a birthday party whose cake had just been set down in front of her. "_That_ Kuchiki. Of course I'll tell you, Mr. Kurosaki. I mean, after all I did get you away from her and all." She gave him a very pleased look, "I bet you're glad she's gone. After seducing you like that and all," she _tsked_ unhappily and shook her head, her hair falling every which way around the table.

"Yeah… yeah," Ichigo muttered, shoving his hands under the table so his fingers could practically strangle their counterparts. He wasn't even going to bother to point out that it had been he who really seduced _her_. Briefly, his mind flashed back to the moment she had showed up at his house and demanded that he renege his statement of her being _worthless_.

_Damn… how blind was I?_ He thought balefully. _It's only when I lose her that I realize she's worth everything to me._

Their plates were set in front of them and he tiredly began to eat. He didn't have much of an appetite. Hell, he had barely had one at all since Rukia had left him. Still, he forced the food down in throat. He didn't want anything to seem out of place.

"It's really a funny story, Mr. Kurosaki," she giggled and bit a piece of chicken in what he thought must have been a somewhat sultry way. She paused and slowly drew her fork from her mouth. A frown was etched onto her eyebrows and she was staring at him with an unhappy look in her eyes.

Ichigo blinked once, not even halfway concerned, "What?"

Inoue put her fork down and set her hands in her lap. On her face, her frown became even more pronounced but her lips drew themselves into a pout. "_Really_ now, I think that if we're going to be together I should call you by your first name." Her lip was pulled out even further and she batted her eyelashes prettily.

Ichigo felt like vomiting.

Projectile style.

After a moment of dumbfounded staring he sighed and realized that he was going to have to go all the way for this little act he was putting up. He couldn't just half-ass it. He needed to do his very best if he was going to get all of this information out of her.

He sighed once and—after taking a very, very, _very_, deep breath—brought his hand out. He reached across the table and put his hand on top of Inoue's.

He heard her breath catch in her throat. Quickly, he tugged her hand up and threaded his fingers through hers. This time, her gasp rang out across the entire restaurant and a few patrons even turned around to look at them.

"Orihime," he whispered, making his voice as husky and as sultry as he could. He paused and made a light chuckling sound in his throat, "I never noticed how much I like saying your name." He made a light humming sound in his throat. "_Orihime_… it's just lovely."

He looked up at her and saw that her face was a raging pink, her gray eyes were hungry with want, and her chest heaved with her breathless excitement. "Oh… Ichigo… that's so… that's so…" she leaned across the table and gazed at him with unblinking and ravenous eyes. "Do you want to get the check now? My apartment isn't far."

Once again Ichigo had to stem the urge to vomit. Instead he let out a low chuckle and shook his head, running his fingers lightly over the skin on Orihime's hand. He immediately saw goose-bumps rise on her flesh. "Slow down Ino—Orihime," he amended gently, "We have all the time in the world for that."

_I once told that to Rukia too…_

He flashed her a dazzling smile and winked an eye at her, "We don't want to rush into this, do we?"

"_I_ do." She told him, her voice taking on a sinister note of indomitable possession.

"Well," he murmured, turning her hand over and running his fingers over her pulse—something that he had learned from his days of philandering, apparently, it drove women a bit wild—and brining her wrist up to his face so he could blow on it. "I want to take things slowly… get to know you first. After all..." he looked up at her through his lashes and gave her a cocky smirk, "You did rescue me from that… what did you call her?"

"Whore?" She asked in a voice so breathless it was almost nonexistent.

"Exactly," Ichigo muttered, feeling his blood boil at the very thought of Rukia being called a whore. "And… how did you do that? Tell me _Princess_."

Inoue's eyes were practically bugging out of her head. He stole a quick glance over her body and realized that she must have been extremely turned on. Her nipples were poking through the thin—and very revealing—fabric of her clothing and her hips were constantly being ground into the chair beneath her. Ichigo shuddered in revulsion at the knowledge that he had done this to her… _purposefully_.

"It was quite simple really," she gasped, her fingers twitching in his grasp so her skin could brush up against his. Ichigo received chills of horror each time it happened. Still, he didn't have time to focus on that. He needed to listen to everything that Inoue was telling him. It could be the key to getting Rukia back.

"One day I was coming home from work," she whispered dramatically, "And I found a package under my door. When I opened it I found a picture of you and that whore in the elevator together."

Memories flooded into Ichigo's mind. That hot dress, her perfect mouth, that amazing night… and the way she had left him with one of the worst cases of blue balls he had ever had in his life. Ah… _classic_ Rukia.

"The other paper that was with the picture said, if I wanted you," she took this opportunity to bat her eyelashes prettily at Ichigo, "I would leave my answer for them on my door. So I told them yes."

"How did you contact them?" Ichigo asked, his voice ripe with fascination as he leaned across the table and continued to play with her fingers, her shaking increased slightly but he didn't care. He needed to act like he was hanging onto each word that she was saying. "Did they leave a number?"

"Oh no," Inoue shook her head and bits of hair went flying into her food, "No… no, I just wrote the word 'yes' on a piece of paper and taped it outside my door." She nodded happily and grinned like a fool, "It was gone by the morning."

"Fascinating," Ichigo ground out, "This is like some kind of spy movie… and _you're_ the super agent." He winked at her and continued. "Did you have to dress up in skin tight leather?"

"No," her chest was heaving at the effort it was taking her to remain conscious, "But I _can_ if you want me too. I don't have any problems with bonds either."

"Slow," he reiterated carefully, "We're taking it slowly, remember?"

She frowned in aggravation and ground her hips against her chair once more. Ichigo swallowed his disgust and cleared his throat, "So what happened next?"

Inoue leaned forward across the table and drew in a deep breath, it seemed like she was trying to _sniff_ him or something. "Well… after that I got a note saying that I had to contact this person—"

"Who?" Ichigo demanded. Inoue blinked at him and tilted her head to the side. Ichigo, remembering that he was supposed to be doing this so she _wouldn't_ suspect anything, cleared his throat and muttered an apology. "Sorry Princess, got a little too into the story… so…"

Inoue shook her head—sending more hair into her salad—and giggled happily, "That's okay! His name was Ulquiorra Schiffer and he was a…" she leaned across the table and tried to move down a bit but was hindered by the immensity of her own breasts. Ichigo leaned forward as well, trying desperately to catch every word that he could, "_Private detective_."

Ice immediately crackled through Ichigo's veins and froze everything inside of him. He swallowed hard and felt his stomach start to churn with horror.

"And?" He asked hoarsely, barely realizing that his face was only inches away from Inoue's. He didn't care anymore. He just wanted to know who he was going to have to kill once this was all over.

"Well," Inoue continued, whispered animatedly and doing little hand motions with her fingers—the ones that weren't trapped by Ichigo's, that is, "He must have installed cameras or something in your office because he got a few shots of you and the whore mid-coitus on your desks, as well as in your car, and—of course—that one in the elevator."

"A—and Rukia saw these?" He asked hoarsely, his eyes beginning to widen.

Inoue nodded vigorously, too caught up in her own story to realize that Ichigo had referred to _the whore_ by her first name. "Oh yes… but you see, that's just the cake. Everyone knows that the icing is _really_ the best part of any dessert." She shot him a suggestive look and grinned, "That's also something I don't mind. Feel free to eat any type of food off of my body Ichigo!"

Some restaurant patrons promptly began choking.

"What… was the icing?" He rasped, his hand clenching hers even harder. He wasn't even bothering to draw tiny patterns on the skin anymore.

"Do you remember when you took me home that one day?" She giggled and then blushed as the memory flashed through her head. "Well, Mr. Schiffer was the one who told me to do it really. He got photos of us kissing—"

Ichigo didn't bother to tell her that it was actually _she_ who kissed _him_ and that _he_ had no actual part in _any_ of it.

"—And then when I yanked you inside, I bet the photo looked like you were coming into my apartment to… _you know_." Inoue broke off and giggled happily, "But we'll get to _that_ later tonight. Anyway, she saw all of the photos on Monday. Also, when she came into the office I told her that all of them had been posted on the internet—a lie, of course, because no one but me is going to be seeing you naked anytime in the near future." She winked at him and let out another, looser, laugh. "Wasn't it wonderful Ichigo? I mean, the planning that it took! _I _think it was absolutely _brilliant_!"

Ichigo looked up at the woman who was, without a doubt, partially responsible for the reason his entire world was now crashing down on top of him. He took a moment and desperately tried to find a reason why he should restrain himself from launching over the table and snapping her neck in two.

_You don't want to go to jail, Kurosaki,_ his brain seethed, _you'll never get Rukia back if you go to jail._

"Is that all?" He asked in a quiet voice, his hand retracting to its own side of the table. He looked quietly down at his uneaten food and tried to reign in his temper. "Was that you're entire… part?"

"Yes," she murmured dreamily, reaching her hand out and stroking her fingers along the length of Ichigo's own hand. "But oh… Ichigo… they told me that once this was finished you'd be mine and I'd be yours. Isn't it wonderful that now we're going to be together?"

Ichigo didn't say anything. He only looked up at the woman who had caused Rukia so much pain and him so much strife. His gaze seemed to pierce right through her as she babbled on and on about things that would never come to pass.

"I bet our children will have hair like ours. We'll get a dog too! Oh! It'll be one of those cutesy dogs that you can put in your purse but, of course, you won't have to do that, I'll do it instead. I can also be your personal secretary now that she's gone and you're the head of the legal department! You and I, working together all of the time and then coming home to be together! Although, I bet your apartment is bigger than mine. I have some very tasteful furniture though and I think you'd like—"

"Inoue." Ichigo said. His voice was low but sharp and at the sound of it, Inoue's head snapped upwards. Her gray eyes blinked into his and she cocked her head to the side.

"Yes Ichi?"

Ichigo closed his eyes and jerked his hand back, out of Inoue's grasp and out of her reach entirely. Obviously confused, she momentarily attempted to grapple for it but Ichigo shoved it far enough away that she couldn't get to it. He put his hand on the side of the table, just flexing and releasing until he was relatively sure that he wasn't going to slug her anymore. It was against his moral policy to hurt women but…

Aren't rules were meant to be broken?

He lifted his eyes to hers and ground out the first four words he could think of:

"Shut the fuck up."

She blinked once and in less than a second her face melted back into the frowning, pouting, _thing_ it had been a few minutes ago.

"There's no need to be so crass honey, all you need to do is ask me to be quiet, I don't like that kind of language. Since we're together you'd better stop talking like—"

"When did you ever get the idea that I was going to be with you?" Ichigo demanded, his voice harsh and his body tense. Oh… he had so many more things he wanted to say to her, horrible things, nasty things, disgusting things… but he knew he couldn't.

Not in public anyway.

Her frown/pout became more intense, "Well… you did. And the note said too that if I—"

"I don't give a flying fuck about what some whack-job wrote on a note." He glared at her with eyes that could have resembled a damn volcanic eruption. "I do not love you, Orihime Inoue. I have never loved you. The only reason I made out with you at that Christmas party _a year ago_ was simply because you force-fed me twenty too many beers." He drew in a breath and fought back a snarl.

Inoue's eyes were large and horrified but she stayed silent while he was speaking. A trait for which Ichigo was grateful. He didn't think he could deal with her sputtering right now.

"I am in love," he said slowly, enunciating each syllable so that she wouldn't get confused, "With Rukia Kuchiki. Not you. I want to be with _her_. Not _you_. Do you understand?"

"B—But…" she gasped, her mouth was opening and closing like a fish while her eyes remained wide.

"To me, you're just the conniving, selfish, bitch who helped to hurt her." He growled, pushing himself away from the table and standing up. "That makes you lower than scum in my eyes."

While Inoue's stunned and horrified eyes watched, Ichigo wrestled his jacket from the back of his chair and slid it over his arms. He turned towards the exit and walked away from her, not even bothering to look back. He heard her call after him but he ignored every whining plea that came from her mouth.

He pushed open the door—not even caring that Inoue was practically screaming at this point—and quickly walked outside to his Benz. He got in, started the engine, and slammed his foot onto the gas pedal. He gunned it, watching dirty slush fly out from behind his wheels and cars swerve off the road to avoid him.

Ichigo drove as if he was trying out for a racing team. He quickly sped around blocks, through intersections, and across yellow traffic lights in order to get to the place where he needed to be.

Soon, he spotted a lonely black van sitting on the side of the road. Quickly, he pulled in behind it, killed the engine, and jerked open the door. He didn't even bother to put lock his car as he rushed towards the heavy back doors and banged his fist against them.

Tatsuki Arisawa's welcoming head immediately poked through.

"Come on in," she said gruffly, tugging on her collar, "It's freezing out there."

Ichigo obliged instantly and made his way into the cramped back area of the technologically advanced van.

"Yo," Renji said to him as he entered and shut the door behind him.

"Hey," Ichigo returned, glancing at the detective beside him. Abarai was currently fiddling with some buttons on his computer. On the screen there were a bunch of squiggling lines that resembled some sort of audio file. Ichigo swallowed dryly and instantly knew that what he was looking at was his entire conversation with Orihime Inoue.

"Nice speech at the end," Tatsuki told him, handing him a cup of coffee.

"I didn't say anything but the truth," Ichigo muttered, not even bothering to ask where the coffee had come from in a crap hole like this.

"Sure, sure," she muttered, rolling her eyes. "But I'm glad you started acting when you did. I could tell that she was getting suspicious of you."

"Yeah," Abarai grunted, "You could have turned on the charm a bit earlier though. You'd have saved yourself some pain."

Ichigo raised his eyebrow at that. Renji just looked over at him and shrugged, "Hell, I was just _listening _to her and I got fed up with her. You actually had to sit there and _see_ her."

"Thanks for the empathy," Ichigo muttered, his voice slightly lacking the sarcasm it usually had. "Do you have enough?"

Abarai raised his head, "Hm? Enough for what?"

Ichigo felt his stomach clench. "Enough to… to… I don't know, do _something_. Can't you like… put her away for stalking?"

"She'd just get a fine," Tatsuki told him gently, as if trying to comfort him.

"But you're more than welcome to put a restraining order on her," Abarai told him, "I'd put it through for you myself. That is one creepy chick." He shuddered and muttered, "Imagining your future kids… that's psychotic."

"Tell me about it," Ichigo seethed.

Yet at that exact instance an image of a little girl with shining black hair, honey-amber eyes, and a toothy grin flashed into his head. That image was closely followed by another one: a little boy with flaming orange hair and deep, liquid sapphire eyes chasing the girl.

Ichigo shook his head but realized, after a moment, that the images hadn't rattled him as much as he would have thought they would have.

He looked up and turned to Abarai, "So… what can we do with her?"

"Well…" it was Tatsuki who answered after a moment, "We can find this _Ulquiorra Schiffer_ dude and get him to give her up. After that maybe…" she turned to Renji, looking for a possible solution.

He looked up at them and he shook his head, "I really don't know what to tell you, guys. I'm not sure we have enough to do either of them serious damage."

"Bullshit," Tatsuki spat, her eyes suddenly flaming.

Ichigo only gaped at the police detective. "Are you kidding me?" He pointed to the doors of the van, as if indicating to the crazy woman somewhere outside of them. "This _woman_ hires some guy to take pictures of me and Rukia while we're intimate—"

"By the way," Tatsuki interrupted, putting her anger aside for a moment to give him a thumbs-up sign, "Kudos on the desk sex. I've never had it personally but I heard it's pretty hot and—"

"Tatsuki!" Ichigo snarled, "That's not the point." The young journalist, however, hardly looked affronted, she simply shrugged and turned to look at Renji, a coy smile on her face. Ichigo also turned to the detective. "She hires a guy to take pictures of us while we're intimate and there's nothing you can do about it? Isn't there some consent law or—"

"Shut up," Renji demanded suddenly.

The entire van went silent.

Abarai slowly turned his head towards Ichigo and frowned, his tattoos practically pulsating on his face and body. He glanced up at Tatsuki and muttered, "Did you say… desk sex?"

"Yep," she grinned and leaned forward, her face only inches from his, "Wanna try it sometime?"

Ichigo tried not to gag.

"No…" Renji muttered. Tatsuki's eyes widened and she let out a surprised little snort.

"It's not that…" he blinked once and quickly jerked his head up. "Not that I don't want to—That'd be… ah, just wait a sec!" He practically shouted, his face taking the opportunity to turn nearly as red as his hair. Ichigo and Tatsuki just watched in amusement. "I just… I… I… shit…" He groaned and slapped a hand to his forehead. "What I _mean_ is…" he clenched his teeth together and looked back towards his computer. He quickly pulled up a search engine and typed in the names of the two companies currently under investigation.

"Suigetsu and Gotei are employed by the Kuchiki Corporation, right?" Renji demanded.

"Right," Tatsuki and Ichigo chimed in at the same time.

"But it's only Suigetsu now," Ichigo added in bitterly.

"So… since the Kuchiki Corporation owns a large military—and government—contract, it's technically working for the government, right?" Renji continued, barely paying any heed to Ichigo.

"Right," they said again in unison, this time a bit more slowly.

"If Suigetsu and Gotei are being employed by the Kuchiki Corporation that means that they're _technically_ working for the government."

_Click._

"It's illegal for private investigators to take pictures of said government employees doing their jobs, especially when the jobs involve the possible loss or gain of billions of dollar in revenue. Not to mention national secrets." Ichigo murmured, slightly awed that Renji Abarai—the freak with the tattoos—was able to piece this together before him.

"Exactly," Renji nodded, turning to the two civilians in the room.

Tatsuki pressed a hand to her mouth and furrowed her eyebrows, "If she was the one who paid him to do it that makes her as liable as this Schiffer guy."

"Which means that she could be held legally responsible for espionage on private, government, affairs," Ichigo murmured, his mind whirling so fast that it was making him dizzy.

"Hot damn," Renji breathed. He looked over at Ichigo and shook his head, "You really did step into a land mine, Kurosaki."

"Yeah," Tatsuki nodded.

"I know," Ichigo said, his jaw clenching tightly, "But if this is what it takes to get Rukia back… then so be it."

Beside him, Tatsuki bobbed her head up and down. "Well… we took one freak down," she looked over at Ichigo and smirked. "Now we just have two to go."

"The people who fabricated the merger," Ichigo supplied.

"And the people who shot Byakuya Kuchiki," Renji finished.

The three people inside of the van sent quick glances in each other's directions.

"We can do it," Ichigo said softly, looking from one comrade to the other. "I know we can."

Tatsuki only smirked evilly, "After all… all's fair in love and war."

*~*~*

Rukia sat up on her bed, staring aimlessly over at the other wall, the television in the sitting room droning on listlessly. She really couldn't stand it, the television that is. But anything was better than complete silence. It was in the silence that she thought of Ichigo. At least while the television was on she was able to occupy her brain with thoughts of slim-fit pants, rhinestone studded jewelry, and gold necklaces.

She turned her head to the side and looked at the calendar. She blinked once and turned away instantly.

Her birthday was coming up.

Leaning her head against the wall, she closed her dull eyes and allowed a throaty sigh to escape her throat. In only a few days she'd be turning twenty seven years old.

"Twenty seven," she whispered, tasting the words on her tongue as she said them. Oddly enough, they tasted bitter, like she was being forced to swallow medicine that she didn't want to take.

Slowly, she pulled her knees up and wrapped her arms around her body.

She had planned on spending her birthday with _him_. She had thought that maybe, together, they'd take off work and go somewhere… maybe to the community ice skating rink or to a nice restaurant. She'd hoped that maybe he would get her a gift… just something small. It'd be the perfect way to start of their new relationship. Then, after their dinner, or their walk around town, or they'd skate some more or do whatever else she had wanted to do…

"We would have come back here," Rukia whispered, pinning her chin to her knees, "And we'd make love over and over again."

_If he hadn't betrayed me._

_If he hadn't used me._

_If he had actually loved me._

Rukia felt the tears brimming up in her eyes again. She turned her head away and tried hard to disappear into the darkness of her unlit room. Quickly, she brought her hand up and brushed away a stream of tears now flowing down her cheek. Her heart throbbed in her chest and she clutched herself tighter. She just wanted to disappear. She wanted to fade away and never return.

_It'll happen soon enough_, her mind told her soothingly.

She swallowed and thought back to the conversation she had had with Beverly Robinson only a few hours ago.

"_Mrs. Kuchiki, so happy I could reach you!" Beverly's chipper voice rang through the phone._

"_Ms. Kuchiki," Rukia immediately corrected, her voice slightly deflated and not carrying the note of venom it should have contained._

"_Oops," Beverly giggled, "Sorry about that Ms. Kuchiki." She didn't even give Rukia a moment to breathe before she launched into a speech about how difficult finding apartments in New York City was, how she had to toil relentlessly for hours on end—her words, not Rukia's—searching for just the perfect home for two lovely single women—once again, her words—and how, after many failures, she had finally located seven apartments that she thought would be to Rukia's liking._

"_Fine," Rukia muttered, sighing and leaning her thin body against the couch. "That'll be just fine."_

"_If you'd like," Beverly said, clearly anticipating that Rukia would indeed like it, "I could send you on virtual tours of each complex."_

"_That will be fine," Rukia murmured, giving the young woman her email address and telling her to send it right over._

"_I know you'll just love these apartments Mrs. Kuchiki, I—"_

"_Ms.," Rukia cut in immediately._

_Beverly's voice faltered for a moment but only a second later she was back to her originally, peppy voice. "Oops, sorry _again _Ms. Kuchiki. It's just that I've been _so_ busy these last few days that I really haven't—"_

"_That's fine," Rukia said, interrupting her before she could go on to, what Rukia suspected was, an unending list of all the things she had had to do that day. So if truth be told, Rukia just didn't give a shit. "Send me the virtual tours. You'll have our decision by the end of the week."_

"_Excellent!" Beverly giggled, "And, Ms. Kuchiki, since I try to get to know my clients on a personal level, I'd like to know… why the reason for this move?"_

_Rukia paused before she answered. She didn't know why, but at the moment, Beverly sounded more like some sort of reporter, trying to get the scoop on a delicious and frivolous break-up._

_But this wasn't just some frivolous break up… this was Rukia's life._

_She cleared her throat and allowed the uncomfortable pause to go on for several more minutes. During that time, Beverly didn't even bother retracting her personal and intrusive question._

"_Beverly," Rukia murmured quietly, an edge in her voice unlike any she had allowed her real estate agent to hear before._

"_Yes?" Beverly twittered, obviously hungry for any gossip Rukia had to dish out._

_Rukia's eyes hardened. "If you'd like to get to know your clients better I suggest you start by learning their proper titles and stop digging around into their personal business."_

_Over the phone, Beverly stuttered in something akin to disbelief but Rukia paid her no mind. "Send me the virtual tours as soon as possible."_

"_Yes ma—miss." The woman on the other end of the phone said before Rukia hung it back up. She placed it back in the cradle and stared unseeingly at the name blinking uselessly on the screen._

_How many times had Ichigo called her in the past few days? How many? It must have been hundreds of times. Not that she picked up. Hell, she actually only connected the phone to the damned wall whenever she needed to make an important call. So basically… whenever she and Momo needed to call House of Wong or whenever she needed to get in touch with Beverly._

_Rukia turned away from the message of _Missed Call:Kurosaki Ichigo_ that was blinking on the phone and reached down to unplug it._

_As she wrapped her hands around the cord the familiar ringing of the phone interrupted her. She didn't even have to look at the screen to know who it was. She pulled the jack out anyway and instantly stopped the petulant ring._

_Somewhere, on the other end of the line, Ichigo Kurosaki felt his heart race at the fact that the phone was actually sounding off. Only to have it crushed when it stopped after only the second ring._

Rukia pulled herself out of her flashback and allowed herself to shift into an even tighter ball than before.

She hurt… oh she hurt. Everything about her hurt. Her head, her hands, her legs, her stomach… and her heart.

Her heart hurt the most.

*~*~*

"Ulquiorra Schiffer," Renji growled, his large body swinging around the room, its purpose to intimidate the man now sitting in the interview chair.

Intimidation, however seemed to be the last thing that this man would ever submit to. From the very first minute Renji had known him, he had been as stoic and as cold as… as… well, the only other person he'd ever seen get like that was Rukia, and that was only after her sister had died.

Still, this dude was something else. His face was pale white, whiter even that Rukia's skin. His hair was a dark, dark black, yet if the light hit it just right, Renji could swear that he saw some forest green streaks inside of it. The streaks seemed to be the exact color of his lifeless and expressionless eyes.

_Fuck! His eyes are fucking creepy!_

Ulquiorra Schiffer sat in his chair with his hands neatly folded in his lap. His blank eyes were staring at a spot on the wall only he seemed to be able to see. His mouth was set in a straight line. His posture was rigid. Everything about him seemed poised…

And dangerous.

_Who the fuck is this guy?_

*~*~*

The exact same sentiment was running through Ichigo's head as he examined Renji and that Schiffer bastard through the one-way glass at the Karakura Police Station.

The man didn't even have a single emotion appearing on his face. He just looked so… _blank_. It was disgusting. His eyes stared out at nothing, his body sat like he had a metal rod stuck in his spine, and his mouth was set in a line that wasn't quite a grimace but wasn't anything even resembling an upward twitch.

Ichigo could only think that maybe… in another time—if he weren't so god damned pissed at the fact that this bastard was partially responsible for ruining his and Rukia's life—he might have been intimidated by this man. But no… not right now.

He wanted answers.

"So, Mr. Schiffer," Renji muttered, "You have a reputation for getting what your clients want, no matter what the cost."

His eyes didn't even waver as he spoke, "I do what I must to make fulfill the client's wishes."

Ichigo felt a shiver run through his spine at the way he spoke. The voice was just so dead… but not dead in the way that rendered him harmless. His voice made him sound like he had no type of conscience, no sense of right and wrong, and no compassion whatsoever. Plus, his pale face, deep eyes, and straight mouth only served to make him more intimidating.

Renji had leaned his entire body onto the desk and was glaring full on at Ulquiorra. "Does that include killing people?"

"I have never killed anyone." Ulquiorra said in a voice as bland as ever. It almost sounded like he was bored.

"Haven't you?" Renji demanded. He quickly tossed a picture of Byakuya Kuchiki onto the metal table. "Who set you up for his murder then?"

"Are you deaf?" Ulquiorra said in that same voice. "I have never killed anyone and to my knowledge, Byakuya Kuchiki is not dead."

"No," Renji said, changing his tone dramatically until it sounded as though he was having a polite conversation with the stoic man, "No… he wasn't, but he was damned close to dying. And seeing as how you facilitated in stalking and spying on his younger sister, I just think that you know more than you're letting on."

"I was paid to perform a service," he replied, "That is all."

"And what service would that be?" Renji demanded.

"You already know the answer to that."

Renji glared at him. "Refresh my memory."

"I was paid," Ulquiorra stated quietly, his voice simply oozing hidden power, "To take incriminating photos of Rukia Kuchiki and Ichigo Kurosaki."

"You say that so convincingly," Renji told him, suspicion now gracing his eyes, "Makes me wonder why…"

"I am a private detective," Ulquiorra said evenly, "I do everything I can to try and accommodate the police. However I have to consider the fact that my client's confidence is secondary to my existence as an investigator."

"How reasonable," Renji and Ichigo muttered at the same time. However, Ulquiorra could only hear what the detective in the room was saying.

One of Ulquiorra's eyebrows rose, "It is."

"We have Orihime Inoue on tape, describing in vivid detail how she paid you to stalk a couple of lovebirds." Renji informed him, sitting in the free chair in the room and placing his hands behind his head.

Ulquiorra didn't react but behind the mirror, Ichigo's stomach turned at the memory of his supposed _date_ with Inoue. "I do not understand." His stoic voice reached all the way through the one-sided glass and Ichigo grimaced. "You brought me here to question me about things that you already know. What is your reasoning behind this?"

"We know that Inoue didn't do this by herself," Renji snarled, "She's not smart enough for that nor is she wealthy enough," he cocked his head to the side and smirked, "I checked how much your charge your clients." He shook his head and whistled, "That's a whole lot of pretty pennies."

"I do charge a very large amount," he agreed, "However, I always get my results."

"You do," Renji snapped, "And one woman's life is ruined because of it."

_Mine too,_ Ichigo reminded himself miserably. _Unless I get Rukia back. This man was the catalyst that broke us apart._

His scowl came onto his face, full force. _If I don't get her back this bastard's going to find himself at the end of some river, a knife in his gut._

"I know not what happens as a result of my private investigative skills. I do, however, know that whether or not I had anything to do with this, you will no doubt find a way to make me the scapegoat."

"Gee, how perceptive," Ichigo snarled from the other side of the window.

"Then why don't you just give it up." Renji told him. "Tell us who you real employer was."

There was silence as Ulquiorra Schiffer moved for the first time that night. He slowly shook his head and leaned back into his chair, a slow smirk coming over his face. "What a conundrum," he murmured, crossing his arms over his chest and sighed, "If I do not give up my true employer, you will go through all of my records, files, and papers, divulging all of the personal information I have garnered on my clients—some of them have very high profiles, mind you—and I will be destroyed."

"Keep going and you might get a gold star," Renji told him in a voice that was low and hard.

"I concur," Ichigo muttered across the glass.

"My higher profile clients would not doubt end me if they knew I had broken their confidence over someone as insignificant as Orihime Inoue. However," Ulquiorra continued, "If I do give you the names—"

"There's more than one?" Ichigo demanded, his question going unheard.

"—Then you and I might be able to keep this little breach of contract to ourselves and I can continue my life and business without any further interruption from the Karakura Police Department." Ulquiorra raised an eyebrow, "Is that correct?"

"Exactly," Renji told him, his voice forceful. "So… will you cooperate?"

The pause in their conversation lasted for well over two whole minutes. Surprisingly enough Renji was the one who was able to hold his peace. It was Ichigo who was squirming in the small booth behind the one-way mirror. Finally, Ulquiorra blinked once at Renji and lifted his right eyebrow.

"I can give you a credit card number."

Ichigo grinned and stared hard at the pale, cold, steady man in the room. "That's a start."

*~*~*

"Beverly," Rukia said clearly into the phone.

"Yes Ms. Kuchiki?" Her voice was frosty, clearly she was still blistering over the comment that Rukia had made about her not knowing her client's very well.

_Honestly, some people just can't take a little bit of professional criticism._

Rukia snorted lightly and then blinked once. She raised her head as well as an eyebrow. _Holy shit, did I just make a joke?_

She shook her head and heaved a heavy sigh. Her numb mind and her raw eyes brought her back to the present with harsh effectiveness. "Beverly, the third apartment that was listed."

"Yes, the one in Manhattan… two bedrooms, one bathroom, living room, dining room, and kitchen." There was a spark inside of her voice at the end of her sentence. Rukia knew that, like any well-trained wolf, Beverly Robinson could smell an oncoming sale. "Would you like to know more about it?"

Rukia rolled her eyes and honestly wished she could force Beverly to start smoking or something, maybe then she'd have a less squeaky voice. "No… I don't want to learn anymore about the apartment."

Beverly waited in breathless anticipation.

Rukia sighed, "I'd like to buy it."

**(A/N: Please don't kill me! I forgot, the IchiRuki interaction isn't until the next chapter! Sorry everyone!**

**Oh, and I hope that everyone who absolutely despises Inoue felt a little better with this chapter. I wanted to do more violent things to her but I guess I just can't bring myself to make Ichigo hit women. Sigh.**

**And finally, no you guys do not have a chapter left. **_**I**_** only have about a chapter or three to write. You guys still have about five more to go. Maybe six depending on how the epilogue goes.**

**Also, once again I apologize for any grammar mistakes. I've been very tired these past few days and not as vigilant as I should be with my editing.**

**PLEASE DON'T FORGET TO REVIEW!!!)**


	42. Chapter 41

**Disclaimer: I do not own Bleach or any Bleach affiliates.**

_**Odalisque**_

**Chapter 41**

"Today's the day," Rukia whispered as she sampled her meager breakfast of a single piece of bread. She hadn't bothered to put it in the toaster. It was just too much work this early in the morning.

"The day for what?" Momo asked her, sitting across from her on the other side of the table, picking at her own breakfast of dry, flaking, cereal.

She looked up at her friend and blinked slowly, gently tugging her bread to pieces, not really eating and not really wanting to either.

"I'm going to visit my sister."

Momo's hands stilled as she fiddled uselessly with her food. She brought her hazy gray eyes up to Rukia's dull sapphire ones and blinked a few times. There was nothing but acceptance in her gaze, although it still looked like it was taking her a few moments to figure out what to say.

What she ended up saying was simple, direct, and sweet. "Do you want me to come with you?"

Rukia looked loathingly at her decrepitly destroyed breakfast and began shoving them into strange-looking pieces of nothing. "No… I think I'd like to go alone."

There was another pause. It was normal for them nowadays. After nearly a week of being alone, being hurt, and barely leaving Rukia's apartment it was customary for them not to speak very much. When they did, they thought about what they wanted to say, they never rushed each other, and they never interrupted. Long pauses before and after statements were blaringly normal.

"Alright."

Rukia nodded, got up from her seat, and brushed away the scraps of her morning _meal_.

"Be safe," Momo told her, her voice quiet and weak.

"I will," Rukia sighed, moving into her room and getting her clothes ready. "I will."

*~*~*

Momo had told her to be safe, yet, at this particular point in time, Rukia really didn't give a damn about being safe. She actually didn't really give a damn about anything other than just… being.

As she trudged through a rather rough path in one of the more obscure parts of the park's forest, Rukia allowed her eyes to stay on her feet, trained her mind to focus on what was ahead of her, and did not think beyond that.

_One two one two,_ she thought as her feet went one over the other, stepping over rocks and large tree roots, wishing that she could get through this faster.

She wanted to talk to her sister. No… not wanted. She _needed_. She hadn't visited her in a while and now the desperation was getting to her. She needed to speak to the only woman who truly knew her. She just… she just… wanted her sister.

After nearly twenty minutes of walking through dense forest and rough dirt paths, Rukia finally came upon what she had been searching for: an old graveyard at the very center of the park.

The Kuchiki Family, since it was one of the oldest families in Karakura and also one of the large city's main founders, were given this little plot of land in the heart of the park so they might be able to establish their own, private cemetery. It had been theirs now for nearly two hundred years. Even though Rukia had thought that giving a cemetery as a gift sounded creepy, it actually rather useful. One had to consider that the city was now so populated that people had to go outside the limits to find room for burials.

It was here that generations of Kuchiki's had been buried; fathers next to sons, wives next to husbands, daughters next to brothers, and infants next to mothers. It was here, in this place, that Rukia's sister, the late Hisana Kuchiki was also buried.

Rukia remembered that, at the time of her sister's death, Byakuya had had to consult with the entirety of the Kuchiki family just so that she could have the honor of being buried here.

"_I will not subject my wife to a run-down and random grave in the middle of the city." _Her brother had said to each and every one of his relatives, be they distant or close. _"Hisana Kuchiki will be buried in the Kuchiki Family Cemetery, with or without the agreement of the rest of the family."_

It was one of the only things Rukia had seen her brother do where he spoke with his heart instead of his head. He had won though, although Rukia suspected it was simply because of his position as the leader of the Kuchiki Family and that it _his_ wife who had died. The rest of the family had muttered and grumbled, but none of them actually put forth a challenge. They were much too afraid of Byakuya to do anything remotely similar.

Of course, at the time, none of this squabbling over grave sites and plots made any sense to Rukia. Her sister had just died… to hear all of her "relatives" talking about moving corpses and cremation and sticking people in the ground only reinforced the notion that her most beloved sister was indeed, gone from this world.

It had made her sick.

Now, however, so many years after her passing, Rukia couldn't help but be grateful for all the fighting that her brother had done on behalf of his late wife. She was glad because… well… she liked knowing that her sister—in whatever form she remained—was still in Karakura.

Slowly, Rukia used her private key to unlock the wrought iron gate around the cemetery and cringed when the hinges creaked loudly as she pushed it back. As quietly as she could, she pushed the gate and allowed it to slide back into place, clicking and locking up again.

Rukia moved like a sloth as she traversed her way between headstones, concrete angels, obelisks, crypts, and mausoleums, all to find the one _humble_ grave in the entire plot.

Hisana's grave lay at the very outer edges of the cemetery, something that Rukia knew she would have liked. Even when she was alive and well, Hisana had never liked to become entangled in any of the debates that raged within the Kuchiki Family. She preferred it much more to simply sit on the edge of all of that snobbery and anger and watch life go on around her. She loved sitting in parks and watching families, children, animals, and insects just go around her whenever they pleased. That was just the way Hisana was… peaceful, demure, and respectful of the many ways that life could surprise you.

_After all,_ Rukia thought tiredly, _she had fallen in love with one of the most stoic men on the face of the planet. How is that not a surprise?_

Gently, she strode over to the simple headstone bearing the words: "Hisana Kuchiki, beloved wife, sister, and friend." It was, unlike the rest of the ostentatious inscriptions in this place, just like Hisana herself: austere, straightforward, and uncomplicated.

With as much respect as she could muster, Rukia sat down on the grass before the stone and laid down the bouquet of daisies she had purchased on her way here.

"Hi Hisana," she whispered. Even after all of the times she had come here to converse with her departed sibling, beginning always felt weird. It felt like she was _just_ talking to a stone slab instead of her sister.

"I'm sorry I haven't visited you in a while," Rukia murmured, "I've been busy…"

_That's not exactly a lie,_ she told herself before swallowing hard and clenching her teeth together.

"Well…" she whispered, "I _was_ busy… I'm not really anymore because… well, you probably already know, don't you? I mean, if you're watching me and all. Or maybe you have better things to do where you are, I don't know it's just…"

_Oh great, here come the tears._

"I wonder," Rukia whispered, "If you ever had any boyfriends before Byakuya, because maybe if you did, you'd tell me what it felt like, to be broken up with or dumped or… betrayed… or whatever might have happened to you."

She reached her arm up and tried to wipe away the stream of tears that was already falling down her face. "But I don't remember anyone other than Byakuya. I guess you were just a one-guy type of woman." She laughed pathetically and sniffled, "Maybe it's just me then. I don't know, maybe there's something wrong with me that makes me attract guys that do… whatever the hell they do.

"But I thought… I thought that after Kaien, things would be different, you know? I just thought that I'd _know_ how to spot the good guys from the bad. I thought that I had experience on my side. Maybe then I wouldn't have to go through what I did with him." She bit her bottom lip, "I guess I was wrong."

The engraved letters stared out at her reverently as she spoke, trying hard not to garble her words in front of her sister. It was unbecoming. "I love him, Hisana," she whispered quietly, "I love him so much that it hurts to think about him" The tears increased threefold and began to rush down Rukia's face. She didn't bother wiping them away. She knew it was futile.

"Momo and I… we're moving away just to stop thinking about the men who've hurt us. I know it's not fair to you or to Byakuya but… I just can't take being here Hisana." She raked a hand through her hair and fought to keep her voice from wobbling too much. Crying while speaking to her sister was one thing, sobbing unintelligibly to a headstone was another entirely. "Where ever I go it's like he follows me. It's like I've got a video of him playing nonstop in my head _all the time_."

She laughed dryly, "Maybe I'm just going insane. Hell, maybe I just wish I was insane. At least then I'd have an excuse as to why I fell for him."

A gentle but cold wind rushed through the trees around her, making the dead branches shiver in the winter air. Rukia didn't feel the wind. Although she was quite sure that she was cold, she just couldn't feel it.

She couldn't feel anything anymore.

"The worst part about this," Rukia whispered, holding her voice as if afraid someone might overhear. "Is that I want him back." She closed her eyes and—against her better judgment—pictured Ichigo in her mind; his bright hair, his honeyed-amber eyes, his smirking face, and his furrowed eyebrows. She swallowed hard and tried to force the image away. She knew that if she kept it she'd be in for hours of crying. She couldn't do that again.

"I want him back so badly Hisana," she choked, "I miss him. I miss everything about him, his stupid laugh, his cocky attitude, how he always has to win an argument, how he thinks I'm beautiful, how we make love together…" She couldn't even _think_ about that last one lest all of her mental barriers be reduced to dust. "I miss him so much."

Rukia felt her throat closing up on her and fought to swallow the large lump that was now obtrusively present. She didn't want to do this here. Not in a cemetery, not right in front of her sister's grave, and most definitely not while thinking of Ichigo.

She stood quickly and didn't even bother brushing off the dirt that now clung to her jeans. "I'm sorry," she whispered, rubbing both of her hands underneath of her eyes and swallowing hard. "I didn't mean to come here to complain. I'm sure you've got better things to listen to then just me rambling on about my life."

The air around her was still.

Rukia stood straight and pulled in a deep, deep, breath of crisp, clear, January air. She tilted her head back to the sky and closed her eyes. "I'm sorry for impersonating you while Byakuya was in the hospital. I only wanted to save him. But I can understand if you're angry. I know you want to see him as much as he wants to see you."

Her head tilted back down and she clenched her lips together tightly, until they almost wobbled under the pressure. "I love you, big sister." She wiped away more tears from her eyes and tried to clear her throat. "I promise my next visit won't be as long in coming."

As quietly as she could and with as much reverence as possible, Rukia gently walked towards the gate to the cemetery. Her footsteps sunk into the soft earth and her hands shook as she shoved them into her jacket.

She pushed the gate open and exited, bringing her key out from her pocket again. It was only when she was pushing the key into the open slot that something in the atmosphere changed around her.

A warm breeze suddenly blew directly onto her face. It swirled around her, as if hugging her every body part in its closely inclusive embrace. Rukia sighed as the warmth pressed against her skin, fluttered through her hair, and flew up her nostrils, filling her entire body with even more delicious affectionate warmth.

Then, as suddenly as it was there, it vanished, leaving in its wake a feeling of understanding, of comprehension, and—most of all—of compassion.

Rukia smiled and clicked the lock into place. She knew that where ever her sister was, she was smiling down on her, whispering _"I love you too."_

*~*~*

Yuzu Kurosaki had always prided herself on the ability to read her brother's emotions, even though he tried to keep them hidden away as tightly as possible from everyone around him. When she hit the age of about nine, she could tell when he was irritated, when he was sad, when he was angry, and when he was happy. It was difficult, of course, since he always wore that insistent scowl on his face. Still, that didn't stop her from doing her best to read him.

Right now she was reading complete and utter misery.

As she sat across from her brother, a bagel sandwich wedged between her two tiny hands, she had to fight not to stare at him too blatantly. It was hard though, after all, he was just sitting at the picnic table, mindlessly nudging his bagel sandwich from one side of the plate to the other with his pointer finger. His eyes were a mix of lost thoughts and despair and his body language was enough to tell Yuzu Kurosaki that her brother was depressed.

No… not just depressed. More than depressed.

She sent a glance over to her twin sister, Karin, and her twin sent her one back instantly. Normally, Karin was the surly one at the table. But the way Ichigo was acting… Karin looked like a blazing spot of sunshine. Something that Yuzu felt she didn't really appreciate.

He was even affecting their crazy, always-happy father, who was simply sitting at the end of the table, cup of coffee in hand, staring out into space. He hadn't said a word to anyone at the table other than the occasional question about their lives or how they were doing in school. He was just sitting there… brooding with Ichigo.

Yuzu could not take it anymore. She just couldn't. She didn't like this silence. She didn't like the fact that her brother wasn't fighting with her dad and giving him nosebleeds and sprained bones. She didn't like how… _normal_ they were all being.

She opened her mouth to speak but was cut off when her twin spoke for her.

_Twin telepathy_, Yuzu thought with a smile, _is so awesome._

"Okay you two," Karin snarled, glaring first at her father and then her older brother with a look of near murderous intent. "What the hell is wrong?"

Ichigo didn't even look up from fiddling with his food. Isshin only glanced at his daughter before giving her a small shrug and taking a sip of his coffee.

That only seemed to infuriate her even more. Fuming, Karin brought both of her hands above the table, formed them into fists, and sent them crashing down on the wooden top.

Ichigo didn't even jump.

Isshin only looked slightly perturbed.

"You two just stop it!" Karin barked, earning several glances from the people sitting around them, "I'm sick and tired of this bullshit! Either you two start with the family therapy or you just leave! I don't want to sit here with you guys moping around like you just had your dicks sliced off!"

"Karin," Yuzu murmured, sliding into her ritual job as the keeper of the peace, even though she had wanted to convey the exact same message to Ichigo… okay maybe not the part about the sliced of genitalia—especially not to her father—but the point was still the same.

She turned to her father and her brother, both of whom remained unaffected throughout Karin's little speech, and reached her hand across the table. She gently grasped her older brother's fingers within her own and squeezed gently.

He still didn't look up.

"What Karin means," she murmured gently, tightening her hold on Ichigo's hand once again in the hopes that he would look at her, "Is that we're both very worried about you, Ichigo. You haven't been yourself for nearly two weeks and… well… we want you to know that you can always talk to us, Ichigo. Always. No matter what the subject matter might be, we're here for you." She tugged on his arm fruitlessly, "We're your _family_."

She waited while Ichigo absorbed all of that information. The squishy feeling she received in her gut whenever she talked like that grew when she heard a heavy sigh come from his mouth. Slowly, he lifted his head and Yuzu placed a warm smile on her face.

It dropped as soon as she looked at her older brother.

"Oh my…" she whispered. Beside her, Karin looked shell-shocked as well.

_This isn't Ichigo._ Yuzu thought wildly, _I know it isn't. This isn't my older brother._

It must have been some sort of mask he was wearing. After all, Ichigo Kurosaki would never be this pale, this gaunt, or this hollow. His eyes would never be reduced to a disgustingly grayish shade of amber, like they were now. His lips would never be _that_ colorless and his mouth would never be set into _that_ hopeless a line. Even his ever-present, oddly comforting scowl, wasn't there.

He was just… _dead_.

"Ichigo…" she whispered, drawing her hand away from her brother's and fighting a look of horror that was creeping onto her features. "Wh… what _happened_ to you?"

Then Karin said the two words that would change the entire course of the family picnic.

Her voice was strong and held not one ounce of doubt. It was pure conviction. Pure belief. Pure certainty.

"_Rukia Kuchiki."_

Ichigo flinched violently in his seat. Beside him, Isshin allowed his eyebrows to furrow deeply. Almost as deeply as his son's normal scowl.

He jerked his hand back under the table and looked away from both of his sisters. "Please don't say her name," he rasped, his voice hoarse and dead. It was the first time Ichigo had spoken that morning.

It was then that Yuzu felt a sharp jolt in her side. She shot her gaze over to Karin and frowned—in her slightly pouty manner—at her slightly older sister. She opened her mouth to demand an explanation for why she was just so rudely shoved in the side but the look on her sibling's face stopped her mid-breath.

Karin was staring, wide-eyed and opened-mouthed, at a person standing on the end of a very small path at the edge of a little grove of trees.

Yuzu's eyes widened as she looked upon the woman who was probably the cause of all of her brother's misery. "Oh… my…"

Karin sputtered and swallowed hard, "It's…"

She ended her sentence when a sharp look from Yuzu was sent her way. However, her one-syllable, stunned, fragment of a sentence was enough to make both Ichigo and Isshin raise their heavy shoulders from the table.

The twins on the other end of the table moved as one as they shot their heads in different directions, away from the site of Rukia Kuchiki and hopefully, away from giving any clue to their male relatives.

_Twin telepathy strikes again,_ Yuzu thought, panic swelling in her stomach.

"What…?" Ichigo began, his voice fading as he frowned at his sisters.

Involuntarily, Yuzu's eyes flickered upwards. At first she was only trying to catch a glimpse of Ichigo's face. She wanted to know if he thought what they were doing was weird or just normal. She just wanted to _look_ at him.

She didn't mean for her eyes to flicker over to the woman standing—as if rooted to the spot—behind them.

But it was too late.

Ichigo, as if in slow motion, frowned until his normal scowl was back on his face. He then began to twist his body to the side, his torso making the muscles of his stomach and his sides coil tensely. His head was the last to move, his neck turning, one inch at a time.

Finally, he set his eyes on what Karin and Yuzu had seen only a few moments ago.

His body went completely rigid.

"_Rukia…_"

*~*~*

Her walk through the forest had been as uneventful as it had been when she first arrived. Only this time, she was fighting away stray tears still lingering in her eyes. She was also trying to sustain some of the feelings of warmth and understanding that going to Hisana's grave had given her.

Her feet, as if they had minds of their own, carried her over rocks, branches, and roots as they wove through the path that would take them to the outer edges of the forest. Then she'd be able to go home and… and…

Resume watching the Home Shopping Network.

_Or I could start packing,_ Rukia thought with a sigh, more tears flowing down her face. It seemed as though they too had a mind of their own. Rukia shook her head and tried to remember the qualifications for declaring insanity.

_But if you're technically insane does saying it give you any sort of relief?_ She shook her head and tried to clear herself of these frustrating thoughts.

_It's either that or think about _him, she told herself ruthlessly as more tears worked their tireless ways down onto her cheeks. _Which would you prefer?_

Rukia only closed her eyes and continued walking until she got to the edge of the forest. Gently, she stepped off of the path and into the bright sunlight of a cold, January day. She tilted her head back and drew in a deep breath; the air felt unnaturally cold against the sensitive warmth of her throat.

She brought her head back down, stuffed her hands into her pockets, turned northward, and readied her feet to once again begin their mechanical procession. Slowly, she lifted her head to gauge how long it would take her—as well as how much energy she'd have left by the end of it—and looked up.

Her heart stopped beating.

It was only then that she realized what day of the week it was.

Two pairs of hazel eyes immediately accosted hers. Yuzu and Karin Kurosaki, sitting on the opposite side of a picnic table, were staring at her as though they were seeing a ghost.

Rukia's eyes, locked on the twins gaze, was almost instantly ripped away when her peripheral vision caught a glimpse of a sight she had been practically dying to see for what felt like an eternity.

Orange hair.

She swallowed hard and felt her entire body beginning to shake. Her eyes connected again with the twins but this time something was wrong, Yuzu and Karin had their heads turned away, their bodies twisted in different directions.

Her eyes immediately flickered back to Ichigo. She saw his back tense and, as if in slow motion, begin to shift.

Every cell in her body was telling her to run. Whether run to him or run away from him, she wasn't sure. She just knew that she needed to run. Adrenaline was racing through her veins and a mixture of intense fear and pain were lancing through her body.

_Wait! _Her mind begged her body, _Just wait! Just let me see him! Just let me see his face!_

Her body did not want to listen but her limbs stayed locked in place. She watched as Ichigo Kurosaki turned around, his body ridiculously slow in her racing mind. His back twisted, his neck shifted, and finally, his face turned.

_Run!_

The moment his eyes set upon her they widened to the point where they looked more like dinner plates than actual eyes. His mouth parted in surprise and a flush crept onto his face instantly. Then there was something shining in his dull eyes. Something that nearly had Rukia running away right then and there. Something that would cause her to cry for endless hours that very night.

_Hope_.

Rukia backed away as she saw, but did not hear, her name slip through his lips, renewed energy now shining in his beautiful eyes.

Agony gripped her heart and she fought to control her breathing, her muscles, her mind… hell, controlling anything would be a blessing right now. She didn't know what to do. She couldn't move.

Every fiber of her being was telling her to run towards him, to throw herself into his arms and weep like a child, to press her face into his chest and wait while his arms resumed their customary position around her back, and to drag through her nose long, deep, draughts of his scent. Everything about her, every organ, every cell, every piece was demanding that her legs stumble over to him and just _be_ with him.

It was only when she saw his body moving out of his seat on the picnic table, his entire family watching with bated breath, did she remember what had happened between them.

The words that had run through her head on that fateful Monday shoved their way up from her heart and viciously took control of her mind. Word for word, the truth came spilling out.

_He lied to me. He made me fall in love with him. He was just trying to get promoted. He tricked me into signing the paper. He was doing all the takeover work behind my back. He made me love him so I wouldn't doubt him. He didn't ever care about me. He was just using me. He never wanted me for anything. He was just doing his job. I was his job. He was making Inoue wait for him. He was sleeping with her on the side. They were kissing. He was going into her apartment. He was an hour late. He was seeing her all along._

Her eyesight blurred and she fell back a step, her stiff limbs jolted out of their yearning reverie. Her mind began to pound at what was now echoing inside of her head. The truth… all of it was the truth; brought back to life so that she could stop the ridiculous aches of her body and realize what had actually happened.

The words began to sing inside of her mind, again and again, as if it was a song stuck on repeat. She brought her hands up to her ears and pressed down hard. She wanted to stop the flow of words and memories that was coming towards her mind. She wanted to force them back down into her heart. She wanted them to remain inside of her and heal like any other wound did. She didn't want them brought to the surface, tearing and ripping and shredding until all she could feel was fresh blood raining down on her soul. She wanted it to be over. She wanted the pain to go away.

She let out a sob and turned, her legs jolting in protest as she brought them into a full run. Her lungs heaved with the pressure she was putting on them and she tried to ignore them. She had to do this. She had to get away or else everything that she thought she had put behind her would be brought back to light. Everything that she had felt, heard, and seen would be dredged to the front of her mind, to be played back with agonizing slowness.

She heard him call her name, several times in fact, along with the cacophony of voices that his family added in. He must have run after her but she was too fast. Her hair whipped around her shoulders and her face, stinging and slapping her, as if trying to wake her up from this world of misery she had accrued after only a few short days.

Rukia ran like she was running for her life. Sprinting through streets, barely making crosswalks, forcing cars to stop early or late; she did all of that with only one goal in mind: _get away._

It was only when she was safely on her own street and outside of her own apartment—gasping for air, clutching her side, and holding in her urge to both sob and vomit—did she realize that she had, indeed, been running for her life.

Or, more accurately, her soul.

*~*~*

Ichigo returned to the picnic table, panting, angry, and viciously avoiding the blatant stares of his family.

She had been there. She had been so _close_. Only a few feet away from him. _Christ!_ Why did she have to run? Why when all he wanted to do was just explain everything to her and hold her until… until…

He clenched his teeth together and hurriedly discarded his jacket, ignoring the cold in favor of feeling something, anything really. He gripped the fabric tightly in his hands, it crunched and whined under his fingertips, groaning at him to stop the torture.

His entire family was staring at him. His sisters' mouths were open wide and their eyes were filled with either horror or tears. He looked away from them and found himself staring at his father.

He stopped dead in his tracks.

The normally buoyant man was stoic, rigid; sitting in his seat, gripping his cup of coffee with one very tense, very tight hand. His head was turned towards his son, his gray hairs glinting in the sunlight as they stood in stark contrast to the black. He was looking at Ichigo with a look he had never seen his father give him before: Empathy.

He clenched his teeth together and marched up to the table, his eyes still on his father. He swiftly grabbed his keys, his cell phone, and what remained of his dignity and fought the glare that was coming onto his face.

It was Karin who broke the silence, as she was wont to do.

Her voice was filled with uncertainty, awe, and a little bit of fear. No doubt she'd never seen him act like he was right now. Not since Mom died anyway.

"Ichigo… what _happened_?"

He shot his gaze over to his sister and his glare withered her on the spot. She quickly glanced down at the table, as if she was ashamed of asking such a question. Isshin did not move and neither did Yuzu, although her nose was twitching from a desire to be wiped and her eyes were blinking in an effort to control the flow of tears.

"Well," he ground out, "You all saw. You saw everything." Karin and Yuzu had enough decency to look guilty about it. "I think you can figure it out on your own." He hissed.

He jerked away from the table and began walking towards the path that would lead him towards his car. His heart was thudding angrily in his chest and his throat felt like it was burning with acid. He needed to get away from this. He needed to figure out who had done this to them. He needed to find out and he needed to do it _now_. Family dinners and stupid picnics could wait… Rukia couldn't.

"She loves you, Ichigo."

His father's voice stopped him dead in his tracks. His body began shaking and his throat swallowed spastically.

He turned and saw that his old man had not moved from his previous position. He was still leaning slightly over the table, he was still gripping his coffee cup with hands seemingly made of iron, and he was still looking at him with eyes as empathetic as Ichigo had ever seen. Ichigo simply stared at him; giving him a look that he hadn't given his father since his mother had died.

"She loves you," he repeated, staring into his son's dazed, hurt, and angry face. "She wouldn't have run away if she didn't."

He and his father locked eyes for only a few seconds more before Ichigo turned away and began marching towards his vehicle.

In his mind, two words rang true:

_I know._

*~*~*

Yuzu Kurosaki sat on her seat at the picnic table, trying to stop the flow of tears that were currently rushing out of her eyes and down her red cheeks. She couldn't, though, and she should have known it was futile. She was always the first to cry in Kurosaki family; that was just the way things always went. Going to a sappy movie, reading a sad book… anything like that made her tear ducts think they were Niagara Falls. She also had a sneaking suspicion that she might have inherited Karin's slight inability to cry after their mom died, because of the whole twin thing, of course.

But this was different.

Her eyes stayed pinned on her brother's back as he walked away, shoulders slumped, head bent down, and body incredibly tense.

She couldn't believe what she had just witnessed.

Seeing her brother run after Rukia Kuchiki… only to have her run even faster to get away from him had nearly broken her heart.

_What happened between them to make them act like that?_ She thought; even that was a small whisper in her mind, as if it was too afraid to come out and be louder—and inside of her head no less.

Then, to see him come back, a dejected and hurt expression carved into his face, was almost too much to bear. She couldn't believe that her brother, the indomitable Ichigo Kurosaki, was reduced to near tears because of a woman. A large lump was lodged into her throat as she thought of how deeply they must have been involved… and how much both of them must have been hurt to drive them apart.

"Yuzu… Karin…"

Her head snapped up at the sound of her father's voice. He was still sitting in the same position he had been sitting in for the past few minutes, even when he had spoken to Ichigo. She and her sister turned at the exact same moment to look over at their father. Yuzu swallowed hard and furrowed her normally smooth brow.

"Yes Daddy?" She was the only one left in the family that still called him 'Daddy.' She knew it was unnecessary but she thought that he appreciated it.

He stood slowly from the table and stretched his legs gently; he turned to look at them and gave the two a soft smile. "I'm going to take a walk. You girls can take the keys and drive back home."

Karin looked at his suspiciously, her eyes flickering back to where Ichigo had disappeared. "Are you planning to walk the ten miles home, Dad?" She gnawed of angrily.

"Karin," he said, his voice was soft and didn't even carry a hint of the _crazy _that usually lurked behind it. "Just go with it, alright?" He tossed her the car keys and she caught them deftly between her fingers.

Without saying another word, he turned in the opposite direction that Ichigo had gone and began walking, his hands in the pocket of his coat and a deeply thoughtful expression on his face.

Karin and Yuzu sat numbly in their seats, the bitter wind nipping at their faces, their mouths slightly opened.

"Were we just abandoned by our brother _and _our father?" Karin asked, dumbfounded.

"Yes," Yuzu muttered, curling her left hand into a fist, the newly inserted paper inside of it crunching lightly.

"Damn," Karin continued, "What Ichigo just did… I can't… I don't believe it man." She whistled softly, "All over one chick."

"I don't think she was just 'one chick' Karin," Yuzu admonished her gently, "I think… I _know_ that he's in love with her."

"You're probably right," Karin murmured, standing from the table and frowning off into the distance. She tightened her jaw and sighed, "I just… I want to know what happened between them, you know? I mean, I know that Ichigo can take care of himself and all but still… he's our big brother you know?" She turned to Yuzu and looked at her insistently. The car keys tightened in her hands and a determined glimmer shone in the depths of her eyes. "Do you think she'd let us into her apartment?"

Yuzu pursed her lips and cinched the paper in her hands tighter and tighter. "I… I don't think so…"

"We could break in," Karin suggested, her tone becoming slightly malicious. "Beat it out of her… I mean, you know how guilty Ichigo can get and all but what if this whole thing was _her _fault?"

"If it was her fault," Yuzu reasoned unhappily, placing all of the uneaten food—practically all of it—back into the basket. "If it was _her_ fault he wouldn't be acting like it was _his_ fault." She shook her head, "No… this was between the two of them. I just…I want to know what's going on too."

"So let's go talk to her," Karin said, helping Yuzu put away all of her materials and then hauling the basket into her arms. "If we just want to talk to her… don't you think she'd listen?"

Karin's twin shook her head. "No," Yuzu murmured, opening her fist and taking away a small piece of paper. She held it up, showed it to Karin, and, using her other hand, reached into her pocket, grabbed her phone, and flipped it open.

"I have a better idea."

*~*~*

Rukia listened blandly to the home shopping channel while Momo's cell phone started ringing.

She didn't rise from her position on the couch and only tightened her arms around her legs. She had tried—and failed—to stop crying over an hour ago. All that she could do now was just sit here and try not to think about him.

Try and, once again, fail.

His face, his eyes, his hair, his body… and the way his lips had moved when he had said her name. She brought her knees in tighter around her body and tried to fight off another sob.

How close had he gotten to touching her today? How close? He had only been a few feet away when she had finally come to her senses and run.

But he hadn't stopped there. No… he just had to follow her. He had to follow her and scream her name and try and get her to stop. She hadn't listened though. She had only continued running.

She was safe now. She was safe. She was here with Momo. She was away from him.

_Thank God…_

"Rukia…"

The voice seemed to come from far away. Rukia blinked twice, her eyelids cracking and sticking to each other as they moved. She turned towards her friend and stared blandly at the proffered phone. It was Momo's cell phone, held out by a shaking hand, offered by a woman with said shaking hand.

"It's for you," Momo whispered, her voice as quiet as could be. Even the home shopping channel seemed louder than her, and it was practically on mute.

Rukia slowly blinked her eyes at her friend, her brows furrowing low. "D—Do you know who it i-is?" She asked, her voice almost as low as Momo's.

Her eyes told Rukia the answer before her mouth did. "It's not _him_," she murmured reassuringly. "It's a girl. I don't know who…"

Hand extended, Rukia's fingers curled around the edges of Momo's phone. She looked at the number displayed on the screen and frowned when it showed up as _unknown_. Frowning even more, she drew the tiny machine to her ear and spoke.

"Hello?"

There was a small pause on the other end of the line. "Please don't hang up on me, Rukia."

The moment she recognized the tiny voice on the line her brain immediately screamed at her to shut the phone, shriek, and throw it against a wall. The only thing that stopped her was the desperately pleading tone of Yuzu Kurosaki's small voice.

"Yuzu," Rukia murmured, closing her eyes and pressing her fingers to them. Her throat was _so_ dry.

"And Karin," Another voice said, this one coming from further away. "I'm here too."

Her head began to throb. "What are you two doing?" She croaked.

"We got this number from Ichi—our brother's phone," Yuzu muttered, quickly amending her speech so as not to mention _him_. Rukia felt like chuckling. So the girls knew enough to know what not to say in front of her. Just what had _he_ told them? "We figured that you wouldn't hang up on us if you didn't know who was calling so…"

"Yeah," Rukia whispered, regretting not hanging up when she recognized who it was. "… So."

The silence that stretched over the phone lines was almost palpable.

Until Karin decided to speak, as she was wont to do.

Her voice was hard as she demanded. "What the hell happened between you and Ichigo?"

Rukia cringed at the question and Yuzu was there immediately to hiss at her twin.

"Be a bit more sensitive!" She snipped angrily… or, as angrily as Yuzu Kurosaki could get anyway. "I'm so sorry Rukia. Really, I—I wish that I could apologize for what _he's _done but I… I don't know what happened so I… can't."

Rukia felt the tears welling up in her eyes again. Such a thing was just so… so… strange to say. Strange and caring and heartbreaking all at the same time.

"Yuzu…" Rukia croaked, dropping her head heavily into her hands, tears running rampant down her face. Her throat clogged as she spoke and she choked out the last few words. "I… I just… I can't…"

"What did he do, Rukia?" Karin demanded.

"Ask him," she gasped, truly trying hard not to cry while on the phone with _his _sisters. "I can't… I just can't…"

"Rukia," Karin broke in, her voice sounding pained but strong, "Why won't you two talk to each other—?"

Rukia let out a sob but Karin kept going.

"—I haven't seen him this depressed since Mom died. And Rukia, this might just be _worse_ than when Mom died. I haven't seen him… I've never seen him…" she let out a frustrated sigh and in the distance Rukia heard her kick something. "You two just need to _talk_ to each other! You need to fix this! You _have_ to get back together. Ichigo needs you Rukia, he does! He just—"

Momo's hand appeared on Rukia's shoulder and she gently took the phone away from her ear. Rukia allowed it to slip from her useless fingers. She instantly curled into a ball and wrapped her arms around her knees.

Momo brought the phone to her ear and cleared her throat. Rukia could almost hear the voices of _his_ sister's on the other line. "Please don't call again." Momo said softly, "I don't want you to upset Rukia anymore."

"_Please wait!"_ Yuzu cried while Karin began growling. _"Can we… can we come over and see her? Maybe then it won't be so hard—"_

"I'm sorry," Momo muttered stoically, "But we're moving away soon. I'm afraid we'll be very busy."

Rukia's eyes closed as she heard the frantic voices on the other end enquire to where they were going. Before she could raise her head and tell Momo not to answer, the words crustily slid out of her friend's mouth. She snapped the phone shut, turned it off, and drew in a deep breath, as if reveling in the silence that such an action brought.

She tossed the phone onto the kitchen counter and sat down heavily on the couch. Rukia sobbed beside her while the home shopping channel droned on in the background.

*~*~*

Ichigo's phone vibrated beside him. The cushion on the couch wiggled infinitesimally in response and he sighed when he looked down at the screen.

The name _'Yuzu'_ was spread across the tiny LCD box. He sighed and, with movements almost too slow to actually be classified as moving, he picked it up. Sighing, he opened the phone and placed it next to his ear.

"_Ichigo!_"

He winced and brought the little device away from his head. Damn, who knew his little sister could yell _that _loud?

"Yuzu," he muttered, calling out into the phone to make her stop the incessant… wait… was she crying?

A surge of brotherly instincts that forever coated his veins flooded into bloodstream. He sat up a bit straighter against the couch and gripped the phone a bit tighter. Even though he could barely feel his own heart through the thick layers of guilt, horror, and despair covering it, he knew that he would always be there for his little sister.

Even if he was dying inside.

"Yuzu," he croaked, somewhat surprised at the sound of his own voice. "Are you alright? What happened? Did someone hurt you? Was it Jin—?"

"Ichigo!" Karin screamed from the background, "Shut up you fucking _idiot_! It's not Yuzu!"

He mind jolted and he frowned at the unannounced voice of his other sister. "Yuzu… Karin…" he frowned even more so than usual, "What… what are you two…?"

"Rukia's moving!" Karin screamed at him.

Ichigo could feel his lungs screech to a halt.

"She's moving to New York City!" Karin bellowed, apparently trying to dislodge the phone from Yuzu's bawling death grip. "I don't know when but soon! Really soon! We got her friend's number from your cell phone and we called her to see what the _fuck_ was going on between you two but she told us not to call again and that they would be moving to New York soon!"

Ichigo could feel his heart shuddering to a stop.

"She loves you Ichigo," Yuzu sobbed, apparently getting the phone back from Karin. "I kn—know she does! You just… you just have to _talk _to her! I—I want you two to m-make up!"

Ichigo could feel his head spinning.

"Please Ichigo," Karin broke through. "Don't let her go… just don't… she means too much to you… to _us_. Just… talk to her please!"

The phone fell from his hands. He could still hear his sisters screaming at him on the other end.

"_We like Rukia."_

"_Don't let her go."_

"_Find a way to talk to her."_

"_Make up with her."_

"_Fix whatever happened."_

"_Are you listening Ichigo?"_

He swallowed hard and placed his elbows on his knees. His chest was expanding and contracting rapidly with the hyperventilating breaths he was taking.

Rukia was moving.

Rukia was moving to New York.

Rukia was moving to New York City.

That was over three thousand miles away. Three thousand miles away from Karakura, away from him, and away from anything they could have been.

"Oh my God," Ichigo breathed, his eyes dilating in the sudden intensity of what he was feeling.

"_I don't know when but soon!"_

If she left, there was no getting her back. She'd move on. She'd find another man to love. He'd be nothing but a horrible memory.

"No," he whispered, dread filling his stomach at the very thought of her going away. He'd follow her, of course; he'd follow her until the ends of the earth just to get her back.

But he had to hurry. He had to act now. He had to find out who did this. He had to catch them. He had to make them pay. He had to… or else everything he was would cease to exist.

His hands balled into fists and he clenched his jaw together.

"I won't lose you," he whispered, agony ripping at his voice. "I won't."

**(A/N: Hi everyone! Sorry for the late update! School has been getting pretty busy.**

**Okay onto announcements:**

**Some of you have brought up good points as to why Ulquiorra is acting on his own instead of strictly for Aizen. You've made good points, very good points. I guess I just wanted to use him so much in this story that I casted him for the wrong part—so to speak. I think once I finish this entire story I'll edit it so that Grimmjaw is the private investigator. I believe that makes more sense seeing as how Grimmjaw works for his own benefit and isn't steadfastly tied to Aizen.**

**Also, we're coming up on the end. I have only the epilogue to write and you guys have about three more chapters to read so… updates might not come as quickly. I apologize but, in all walks of life, I do believe that homework comes first. Plus I actually have to start picking a major before I give myself a worry-induced heart attack. Sigh. Isn't college supposed to be fun?**

**Anyway, sorry for the massive Author's Note. Thank you to everyone who has reviewed for this story. I hope you keep enjoying and:**

**PLEASE DON'T FORGET TO REVIEW!!!)**


	43. Chapter 42

**Disclaimer: I do not own Bleach or any Bleach affiliates.**

_**Odalisque**_

**Chapter 42**

"Are you fucking crazy?"

Ichigo looked blandly at Renji and raised one orange eyebrow. "Does it really look like I'm crazy?"

Tatsuki raised her own eyebrow, "Do you really want us to answer that question Kurosaki?"

"Fine," he muttered, running a hand through his hair, "Don't answer it, but this is what needs to be done, right?"

"You _are_ fucking insane," Renji growled, leaning against Ichigo's plush couch and shaking his head. "Truly, mind-numbingly, _insane_."

Ichigo was sitting on the accompanying chair in his living room. He slowly leaned forward and placed his elbows on his knees. Renji was lounging close by and Tatsuki was drawing random patterns onto his couch using her finger.

It had been decided—more like commanded—that the three of them would meet here after Ichigo had delivered a terse-yet-frantic message to Tatsuki, demanding an emergency conference. Ichigo wrinkled his nose at the thought of Renji Abarai actually being in his house—considering their rather combative history—but quickly shoved the thought away. This was the only place they could meet without the fear of people getting wind of what they were doing. After all, since this case against Aizen didn't have anything but circumstantial evidence behind it Renji was working with him off the clock to help him slip a noose around the bastard's neck. Tatsuki was doing the same, if only to get the scoop on what was going on.

_What a crack team you've assembled, Kurosaki,_ he cringed inwardly, _a lawyer, a cop, and a reporter. I wonder if one day people will make jokes about this kind of arrangement._

He brushed the thought aside and turned to the matter at hand. Oh right, his sanity, which he honestly could say he felt ebbing away at the moment.

"I'm going to do it." He told them.

Tatsuki scoffed and took a swig of the beer she had purloined from Ichigo's refrigerator. "Ichigo… you just can't waltz into Sosuke Aizen's office and demand that he give you what you need to put him in jail." She shook her head and put the beer back down on the coffee table. "Hell, you don't even know if he _has_ papers that could put him away. The bastard seems _way_ too meticulous for that."

"Of course he doesn't have papers," Ichigo muttered, staring at a spot on the carpet and thinking. "But men like him like trophies. They're collectors. He'll definitely want to keep parts of what he's won right in front of him." His eyes darkened and he snarled inwardly. "So he can look at it and remember just how _ruthless_ and _clever_ he is. So he can remember each person's life he screwed with."

His black gaze stared sightlessly onto the carpet. Tatsuki sighed and glanced over at Renji. The tattooed men rolled his eyes and cleared his throat. Ichigo's head shot up and he frowned, as if his mind had just been several thousand miles away. "Huh?"

"He already has it," Renji pointed out. Ichigo just scowled, "He has all of Gotei and Suigetsu under his little finger. Don't you think that'd be enough of a trophy?"

Ichigo shook his head. "For him? No. Not in a million years."

"It's not…" Renji trailed off, shaking his head and rolling his eyes theatrically, "What more could the bastard want?"

Ichigo shot him a look of pure derision. "Gee, I don't know, maybe the real tape of Momo getting raped? The photos that Inoue described? The kill order for Byakuya Kuchiki? Anything like that come to mind?"

Renji glowered at him, "Fine… say he does have that stuff. Why do you think it'll be in his office? This dude is rich enough that he'd probably have sixty houses all over the world. Why would he put all of his stuff where it could be found? Not to mention the security around it. The man probably has forty billion safes and probably a Swiss bank account!"

Ichigo was about to retort when Tatsuki cut him off. "Ever heard of hidden in plain sight? Right under your nose?" Tatsuki asked him, turning to look at him from her spot on the opposite site of the couch. Her flirtatious eyes raked over his body and Renji turned slightly red in response but returned her stare nonetheless.

Ichigo could have gagged but he settled for clearing his throat loudly. Tatsuki and Renji didn't even bother looking up. "He'll want those momentums close by. He's a collector…. He would want all of that shit constantly around him so he can keep reminding himself of how great he is."

"Kurosaki has a point," Tatsuki told Renji, her eyes still locked with his. She cocked her head to the side and smirked, "Oh, and by the way, you're—" she stuck her finger out and pressed it to Renji's chest, "Taking me home."

Ichigo threw up a bit in his mouth and Renji choked softly.

Tatsuki merely smiled at the two of them and held up her barely-emptied beer. "I can't drink and drive."

"Didn't you take a taxi here?" Ichigo demanded dryly.

She shot him a glare and then turned to Renji. His face was as red as his hair but he sure as hell wasn't protesting.

Ichigo felt his heart wrenching inside of his chest. _They're acting like Rukia and I used to act._

Cue the misery.

"I just need to get into the building when no one is there," he said, cutting into Renji and Tatsuki's eye-sex. "That should be easy enough. I'll just stay late." He pressed a hand to his forehead and groaned at the presence of his near-constant headache. "But Aizen probably locks his office so I'll need to find a way to get inside. Maybe I'll jack the keys from the maintenance men or something…"

"And then what?" Tatsuki demanded, finally dragging her eyes away from the detective sitting next to her. Hey… hadn't there been more room between them earlier? "You'll find his secret safe hidden behind one of the many diploma's on the wall, ingeniously figure out the combination, and poof! You'll have your information?" She shook her head and frowned. "You know how much I hate cliché's but still… things aren't always as they seem sounds rather appropriate here, Kurosaki."

"I know that," he snarled, "Which is why I'm trying to figure out how to do this. But you know, it'd be nice if I could have some _help _from Thing One and Thing Two. And by _help_ I do not mean derisive comments or random eye-fucks." He glared at the two of them and they glared back. The silence was terse for a few moments before he sighed and began rubbing the bridge of his nose. "Do either of you have _any_ suggestions?"

Renji looked down at his shoes and Tatsuki apparently seemed to find his collection of car magazines suddenly fascinating.

Ichigo felt like screaming.

"I really don't know what to tell you Ichigo," Tatsuki said, shaking her head. "What you're planning to do… honestly, I don't really see how you have much of a chance."

"Yeah," Renji muttered, "As much as I want to solve the cases I have that might be connected to this one I… I just… unless." He shook his head and pursed his lips, "We'd need a warrant to search the place—and we can't get one so stop looking so hopeful—and without it or the help of the KPD I don't know how you're gonna find what you need."

Ichigo narrowed his eyes and gripped his hands together so tightly he probably strained a joint. His mind was whirling with thoughts of what he needed to do. His teeth clenched together and he slowly drew in a deep breath.

_Get into Aizen's office._

_Find incriminating evidence._

_Get out of Aizen's office._

In his head it sounded much simpler than it actually was. He groaned and pressed one of his mangled hands onto his hairline and tugged at the orange locks. "Shit," he grumbled, his heart thudding dully in his chest. He looked up at Renji and Tatsuki and tried to think of something that would encourage them to spout out more ideas… but it was hopeless. Tatsuki was currently rubbing part of her leg against part of Renji's. It was obvious that their brains weren't focused on the case anymore.

Ichigo wrinkled his nose and stood from his chair. He turned to the other two in his house and bluntly told them to _"go screw each other somewhere else."_ In less than two minutes, Ichigo Kurosaki was left alone in his house.

Again.

He sighed as he trudged towards his bedroom, turning off the lights as he went. The comforter squished under his lanky body as he threw himself on top of it, not even bothering to get undressed.

After a few moments, the pattern of his breathing became regulated and deliberate. He closed the lids of his eyes and pressed a hand against them. Slowly, he closed off all of his senses to the outside world and tried to focus on only one. With great care and apprehension, Ichigo opened himself and allowed the air of his bedroom to seep into his lungs. He had to wait for a moment to detect it but…

There.

Ichigo—for the first time in a very long time—allowed his lips to curve into a ghost of a memory of a smile. He breathed in deeply and tried to hold onto that one scent that always seemed to dwell inside of his bedroom.

It was her shampoo, a mix of vanilla and something else he couldn't name, but loved nonetheless. It was her perfume, hell if he knew the brand but it made her smell like she had just run outside in the snow. It was her skin, rubbed each day with small amounts of cocoa and shea butter. It was her lips, and the chapstick she wore when it was cold.

It was everything about her that lingered in his room.

Or, at least, everything but her actual self.

Ichigo closed his eyes and tried to picture Rukia Kuchiki lying next to him—naked, preferably—and drowsy from sex and sleep. Her hair would be mussed and her pale skin would be glowing in the darkness of the room. Her arms and legs would be entangled with his. She would hum and moan softly in her sleep, no doubt thinking about the last few hours they had spent together. His fingers would be running down her back and across each bump of her spine. Her head would be tucked under his chin and he would be holding her so tightly that… that…

That he'd never let her go again.

Ichigo lifted his hand from his face and allowed the rest of his senses to return. One by one, he began to feel the emptiness of his bed. He saw the untangled sheets and the perfectly placed pillows. He heard the stillness of his room. He tasted the bitterness of solitude on his tongue.

But he could still smell her.

Inhaling once more, as if to bolster himself, he opened his eyes and spoke to his darkened room, "I guess it's all up to me then."

*~*~*

Staying late at work, Ichigo found out, was harder than he had anticipated.

Angrily, he sat in his car and munched on the bag of peanuts he had found stashed in the glove compartment, they must have been weeks old but he didn't care. He wasn't going to go back to his apartment and have another cardboard dinner while he could be doing something to help Rukia.

That was the catch though. Right _now_ he wasn't doing anything to help her, not now anyway. No… right _now_ he was just sitting in his car.

His fucking _car_.

Why? _Oh…_ he swallowed angrily and popped a few more peanuts into his mouth, barely noting the fact that they tasted like, well… cardboard.

_Orihime Inoue_ was the reason he wasn't at work right now, doing something to help Rukia.

"Damn woman," he snarled, swallowing a few nuts whole and nearly choking on them.

How could statements like "I never loved you" and "get away from me" and "I never wanted to be with you" and "I'm in love with Rukia Kuchiki" and "I will get a restraining order you psycho" be reconstructed into "No, don't worry, I'll love you eventually, if you just try hard enough I'll be yours forever."

_How?_

Ichigo had no idea. But that was the apparent thinking of the secretary for his floor. Everyday he walked into the office there was something on his desk, a note, a basket of food—inedible food at that, who had ever heard of a gelatin-cheerio breakfast muffin?—or little presents like stress balls or back massagers.

Ichigo made sure to document all of these things and send the list to Renji, just to see if these types of obsessive behaviors warranted something more than a restraining order—which he was currently getting. He had to lock his door all throughout the day because she kept on trying to get inside and… and… proposition him.

Ichigo shuddered as he remembered one day in particular.

_The door opened softly and Orihime Inoue came through, bouncing lightly on the tips of her toes, allowing her breasts to surge up and down like water balloons. Ichigo looked away in disgust and vaguely decided that if she wanted, Inoue could probably power an entire city with those damn things._

"_Hello Mr. Kurosaki," she cheeped brightly._

"_Get out please," Ichigo ground out, he couldn't believe that he'd actually said the word 'please.'_

"_Oh Mr. Kurosaki, don't be like that," she giggled, flipping her hand to and from her mouth as she shut the door behind her._

"_I do believe I told you to get out," Ichigo told her, holding his pen stiffly in his hand and wishing he would use the sleeper hold on her._

"_I was thinking," Inoue giggled, coming forward and bringing her hands to the top of her chest._

"_Shocker," Ichigo snarled._

_She chuckled and began to unbutton the top button on her blouse, "You're so funny Mr. Kurosaki!" Another two buttons disappeared as she smiled, her beige, see-through, bra began to peek through her enormous cleavage and Ichigo fought the urge to gag. "Well, you know how you and Ms. Kuchiki—" she spat out the name like poison and Ichigo felt a pang of pain in his heart, "—had sex on this desk?" She finished unbuttoning her shirt and Ichigo's eyes narrowed to the point of slits._

_He didn't answer her as she shrugged her blouse off and tossed it—in what he assumed was an appealingly sexual way—onto the floor. "Well," she continued, pausing at the opposite side of the desk and putting her hands flat on the top. She brought her arms together and pressed her enormous breasts together with her biceps. Her large nipples poked through the lace fabric of her undergarment and grinned. "I think that if we did it here you'd be able to forget all about her."_

_She curved her back so that more of her chest popped out. _They_ were only about a foot away from Ichigo's face and he felt like vomiting. He didn't say a word and Inoue must have taken that as silent consent because she giggled, stood upright, and began to walk around to the other side of the desk._

_It was then that Ichigo spoke._

"_You take one more step," he said in a very low and very dangerous voice. He wasn't looking up but he knew that Inoue froze, he could probably guess that a smile was still on her face, "And I will call the police and immediately charge you with sexual harassment and since this is conveniently a work environment if you do not leave my office right now you will be fired immediately."_

_There was silence for maybe all of three minutes before Inoue laughed._

"_If you want to play the Illicit Office Relationship in a place other than your desk, Mr. Kurosaki, that's fine with me too!" She shrugged and began walking outside, gathering her blouse along the way. "Don't worry, I'll be right outside if you want to go into a janitor's closet, or maybe an elevator—you like those, right?—or maybe on _my_ desk! That would be fun, don't you think?"_

_Ichigo didn't say a word and simply stared down at the papers on his desk. They weren't actually work papers. They were the papers that he and Rukia had done for the merger. He was looking over them to see if there had ever been any indications about a hostile takeover. He needed to know if there were clues. He needed to know if he could have prevented this. He knew that it wouldn't help him in the long run… the past was in the past and he couldn't change it… but if there was even the slightest _shred_ of evidence, the tiniest piece that could help to convict Aizen… he'd find it._

_Ichigo didn't even look up as Inoue went on babbling nonsensically out of his office door. Oh how he hated her babbling… at least when Rukia spoke she actually had something of importance to say._

_But he couldn't pay attention to her now…_

_He had work to do._

Ichigo clenched his teeth and tried not to throw up at the recollection.

It was now almost eight o'clock at night and he was still here, waiting for the best moment to go inside. He glowered angrily as he thought of the task in front of him. Damn rat bastard Aizen… he was going to find whatever it was he needed to put him away. Even if it took him all night, even if it meant he kept needing to come back… he'd come back every single _fucking_ night until he had every speck of evidence he could get his hands on.

The radio played some song he vaguely recognized and he swallowed the rest of his peanuts in one gulp. He paused and looked at the steady numbers on the clock. Everyone had probably left the office by now. He only knew one person who would willingly stay in an office building and do work until well into the night… but she definitely wasn't inside.

He brought life to his engine and pushed the gearshift out of park. Quickly, he drove towards the giant building looming in the dark night. Suigetsu was like a black mountain seated ominously against the sky.

He quickly found a parking space that was far enough away from Suigetsu that his car wouldn't be conspicuous. He got out and allowed his eyes to scan the small courtyard in front of him. As if it was a tape stuck on repeat, he could almost see everything that had happened between him and Rukia on that fateful Monday a few weeks ago.

He swallowed hard and tried to look away.

"Okay…" he muttered to himself, "Let's get this over with."

His feet carried him across the horrid courtyard as quickly as to be expected and he tried to keep his mind closed as he went. He didn't want to remember what had happened here.

The revolving doors creaked as it Ichigo pushed through them. He fought back a small shudder and a scowl at the sound. He couldn't even remember the damn door creaking during the day.

He stepped into the empty lobby and instantly spied the late-night secretary that was positioned at the oval desk. The middle-aged woman looked up at him, gave him a rather come-hither smirk, and propped her hand on her chin, gazing at him happily. Ichigo ignored her and made his way to the elevators.

Noticing that the woman's eyes followed him, he cleared his throat and spoke clearly, "If he _wanted _the project done by tomorrow morning he should have told me before I left today… asshole."

Out of the corner of his eye he noticed that the woman nodded twice, shrugged, and went back to playing a solitaire game on her computer.

_Rukia plays free cell,_ his brain automatically connected. He clenched his jaw as he pressed the button to the elevator and waited for it to come down. Finally, he stepped inside and listened to the horrid music play.

He pressed a hand to his forehead and fought back a groan.

_Whipped and miserable, how much worse can you get?_ He demanded of himself.

His eyes stayed on the glowing numbers as the elevator climbed and climbed and climbed. Finally—after what seemed like ages—he departed at Aizen's floor.

Ichigo kept his head down and his body to the side as he walked through the halls. He knew that there were no cameras anywhere in this building—other than the ones in the lobby and in the general meeting areas, but those were just for safety—still, he wouldn't put it past Aizen to install his own cameras.

His footsteps were light and quick as he moved in towards Aizen's office. Smirking softly to himself, he dug out the keys he had jacked from the maintenance men earlier today and set about finding the correct one. The small key was brilliantly silver, and had an intricate marking on the top like none other than Ichigo had ever seen. He should have guessed though. Aizen was one for opulence, no matter what the occasion.

_Even when he's screwing hundreds of people over he has to do it with some sort of sick flair._

Slowly, he slid the key into the lock. Company policy dictated that no one was allowed to lock your office doors but, since Aizen technically owned the entire company, he probably had new rules put up. Ichigo twisted the knob and pushed the door forward. It fell through his hands like it was covered in oil but he didn't care. His entire body felt strange now. It was like he was stepping inside of a void. There was nothing here that could create any sort of joy for him. There was no happiness, no light, no nothing… Ichigo shuddered at the thought and quietly closed the door behind him. It slid without a sound and he swallowed hard.

Ichigo didn't even bother to flip on the light as he went inside. If there were cameras inside of here he wanted Aizen to have a hard time seeing him.

Still, even with the moon shining in from the large window and the glow from the large fish tank casting bits of light about, the room was still treacherously dark. Thankfully though, it was clean enough to make the passage easy. He pulled his body inside and gently ran a hand through his hair.

_I can do this._

Silver moonlight slid through the large expanses of clear windows and a few stars that were shining through the clouds cast light on the things around him. A large oak desk was directly in front of that window, arranged so that the sitter would have his back facing the outside world. Ichigo could only imagine how imposing that would look to anyone coming into this office during the day: to be nervously called for reasons good or bad, to see your boss sitting in the shadows while the full force of the sun blazed behind his back, looking like a devilish god in the brightness.

Ichigo jerked his eyes away from the desk and scanned the rest of the room. The diplomas on the wall were numerous to the extent that there was barely any room left on one of them. Another wall held bookshelves containing more books that Ichigo could have ever thought would fit on the wooden planks.

Finally, on the furthest wall sat a fish tank of enormous proportions. Fish of a multitude of colors fitted about the water, careless and happy in their cool home.

A few months ago, Ichigo would have considered them very beautiful. Now they were just a distraction.

"Okay," he muttered, "Let's see where he's hiding his shit."

As he looked around the room, trying to find the best place to start his search, his previous conversation with Renji and Tatsuki floated into his mind and he scowled hard.

"_And then what? You'll find his secret safe hidden behind one of the many diploma's on the wall, ingeniously figure out the combination, and poof! You'll have your information? You know how much I hate cliché's but still… things aren't always as they seem, sounds rather appropriate here, Kurosaki."_

Ichigo stared dumbly at what was in front of him and, for the first time that night, a feeling other than abject hatred flew into the pit of his stomach. Right now, Ichigo Kurosaki felt stupid, he felt hopeless, and he felt… he felt… hell, he didn't know what he felt anymore.

Was Tatsuki right? Aizen wasn't the type of person to just keep things behind diplomas or behind vents. He was too smart for that.

But… it wasn't like he had any other choice.

Ichigo Kurosaki drew in a deep breath, shucked off his coat, rolled up his sleeves, and walked over to the diploma wall.

One by one they came down. One by one he found nothing. One by one he had to inspect them. One by one he had to put them back so that no evidence from his search was left to casual eyes.

Forty nine. That's how many diplomas were on the wall Ichigo just dissected. Forty freaking nine. Why the bastard didn't just accept another award or become an honorary professor at another school to make it an even fifty Ichigo didn't know. After all, Aizen liked things to be squared, solid, and exact. Forty nine wasn't any of those things.

However, his issue with Aizen and his numbering systems was not the problem here. Ichigo snarled inwardly and resisted the urge to take every single fucking frame that was on that wall, rip them down, break the glass under his feet, and burn them all to smithereens. Nothing.

Absolutely fucking _nothing._

He quickly brought his wrist up and looked at his watch. A little less than an hour and a half had passed by and still nothing.

"The night is young," Ichigo ground out quickly, desperately needing some sort of bolster in order to keep his depression at bay.

The next place he looked was the one that was also way too obvious. The wheels of Aizen's chair scraped noiselessly against the carpet of the room as Ichigo dragged it towards the nearest ventilation system. The back of the chair thudded against the wall and he quickly hefted his knee so that he was able to place his foot in the very center of the seat. He extracted a screw driver from his pocket—and allowed himself to smirk at the fact that he had come prepared—and began to undo the screws on the small vent. It came off quicker than he had expected and his heart jumped at the thought.

Yet his eyes once again became narrowed when he was met with only dust.

"Fuck," he snarled, fighting off the urge to sneeze.

He placed the vent back and carefully put the screws back in their proper places. His hands were shaking so badly that he had difficulty putting them back in the first place. The muscles in his wrists bugled slightly as he twisted the screwdriver forward and forward.

He knew it was stupid to get so angry. After all, this had to have been a one in a million shot. Like he'd actually find something.

Aizen was just too smart.

Ichigo stepped down from the chair and shoved it back with his foot. It careened towards the desk and smashed into the wood paneling. Furiously, Ichigo ran a hand though his hair and let out a frustrated sigh. He quickly strode over to where he had tossed the desk and began jerking open the drawers.

Papers, staplers, hole punchers, post-it notes, computer accessories, extra manila folders, hard candy, pens, pencils, and white-out. Nothing sinister, nothing incriminating, nothing that would give him any fucking clue to confirm his suspicions.

"Shit." He hissed.

Ichigo slammed the drawer back into its place and took a few steps away from it. He needed to breathe. He needed to calm down. He needed to keep his head.

"_Things aren't as easy as they seem Kurosaki."_

His eyes drifted over to the fish tank and he watched as little fish gracefully swam past each other. Orange fish, red fish, black fish, and blue fish swirled in a tornado of colors around the clear—if slightly foggy—water.

His heart started to beat a little less quickly and his breathing became less intense. Fish were therapeutic, he remembered, maybe that was why Aizen had them here. Did the bastard need to look at the fish to cool himself off after getting such a high from destroying people's lives?

_Probably._

Ichigo breathed in softly and tried to keep a steady head. It was only a little after ten. No one was in the building—and if they were Ichigo would make sure to knock them out so they wouldn't remember anything—and he had just enough time to thoroughly sweep this place before the morning.

With that thought placed firmly in his head, Ichigo strode slowly over to the bookcase. He drew in a deep breath and then shook his head at the enormity of what he was about to do. Slowly, he crept back to Aizen's office chair and pulled it over to the case. He placed it and precariously stepped onto it once again. His feet pushed down the plush cushion as his arms extended over his head.

He peeled one book away from the rest of them and began to flip through it. There were no compartments and no cut-outs in which someone could hide a small DVD or a computer chip or anything similar.

Ichigo shook his head and flipped the cover closed, looking disparagingly at the hundreds of other books on the shelf.

He put the first one back and closed his eyes momentarily.

"One at a time."

Three hundred and twenty seven books later, Ichigo had not found a single thing.

He tossed the book into the shelf and slid down into the office chair on which he was sitting. The office was dark, totally and completely, the slim light that the moon had given him when it first appeared was now nothing more than a memory. The stars were blanketed in a thick film of clouds and any street lights that were on were too low to be seen from this height.

Ichigo slumped in the chair and caught a faint whiff of Aizen's atrocious scent billowing through the fabric. He cringed and immediately stood up, shoving the chair back into its place.

The final book slid into its rightful spot as he straightened them all, line by line. His eyes felt gritty as he walked the chair the rest of the way to the desk and sat down again despite the horrid and acrid smell.

It was nearly two in the morning and he still had no found anything of use to him. He groaned and placed his elbows on the desk in front of him, arranging his head between his hands. He fought not to close his gritty eyes and thought of any of the places he might have overlooked.

Walls were a check, vents were a check, the bookshelf was a check, and the desk was also a check. The fish tank he had swept with the little net just to make sure that there was nothing waterproof hidden in the water.

"Shit… fuck… damn it…"

How was he supposed to get Rukia back—and bring down Sosuke Aizen, he begrudgingly admitted—if he wasn't even able to find any information?

"_Things aren't as easy as they seem Kurosaki."_

He snarled as Tatsuki's voice was sent pounding back into his mind. He closed his eyes for a second and sighed when he realized that she and Abarai were probably screwing each other tonight—probably at this very moment, seeing as how they had been eying each other with a hunger akin to that of starving wolves. Ichigo could only assume that the two of them were… were…

Doing what he should be doing with Rukia.

He peeled his eyelids away from the actual balls and belatedly wished that he had downed another cup of coffee later this afternoon. He was starting to get tired. His bones and joints creaked as he rose to his feet and absentmindedly brought his hand out to clasp the little ball-and-chain on the desk lamp. He tugged it downward and allowed the small lamp to turn on.

For the next two hours, Ichigo did nothing but comb over every space of the office that he could find. He lifted up parts of the rugs that looked loose, he moved pieces of furniture, he dug inside of the fish tank once more, and he moved his hands diligently over all braces on the windowed wall.

_Nothing._

It was nearly four thirty in the morning when Ichigo realize that the crushing sensation that was currently stamping on his heart was the enormous weight of hopelessness.

His body felt drained of all energy as he walked towards the door that would lead him out of Aizen's office.

"He was too smart for me," Ichigo muttered, passing a hand over his face, feeling the stubble of his way-past-five o'clock shadow searing his palm.

He stopped at the threshold of the door and turned to examine what he had left behind. Everything inside looked exactly as it had before he had examined the entire office.

_Examined… yeah, more like tore apart. Only you were able to put this one back together again._

It was then that he noticed that the light on top of Aizen's desk was still bright. Sighing, Ichigo walked back into the office and reached down to tug on the ball-and-chain. The light clicked off and Ichigo let his hand slide down the rest of the interconnected metal. His fingers were just about to lift from the small, oblong, ending ball when the small piece snapped off in his fingers.

"Fan-fucking-tastic," Ichigo muttered, moving around the desk and slamming his body back onto Aizen's seat, intent on getting his fumbling fingers to work and actually reattaching the damn thing. If Aizen was really as meticulous as he looked to be—and Ichigo knew that he was—then he'd sure as hell notice an object as small as this missing from his office.

Grunting, Ichigo's slow fingers worked with the little bobby and the metallic latch. His digits slipped and tripped as he tried to reattach the small accoutrement.

Until he noticed that there was a small line circling the oblong ball; one that ran width-wise completely around it… one that really had no reason to actually be there.

Slowly, Ichigo pulled the little ball into his hands and let it lie gently in his palm. It was gold and matched the hue of the lamp chain perfectly. The top was rounded and full and so was the bottom. It looked normal except for that line.

It almost looked like it… _opened_.

Slowly, Ichigo put one set of pinched thumb and forefinger on one side and the other on the adjacent side. He tugged once yet nothing happened. Frowning, Ichigo applied more pressure, tightening his hold and tugging once again. Once again, nothing moved. Narrowing his tired eyes and fighting the exhausted throbbing in his head, Ichigo clenched his jaw and looked up to the top of the little device—all the while attempting to shove away the rather loud voice in the back of his head that was yelling at him and calling him a raving lunatic.

Frowning, he touched his pointer finger to the top of the ball, where a little link was popped out to help it connect to the rest of the lamp chain. It wiggled under his touch and he pressed down a bit more firmly. With one finger pressing onto the little knob and the other parts of his hands gripping at the sides, Ichigo tugged.

The two edges began to slide apart.

Ichigo's eyes widened at what now rested in the palm of his hand.

"Tatsuki was right," he breathed… but with a slight modification.

"_Things aren't always as they seem, Kurosaki."_

*~*~*

Ichigo slammed his foot onto the pedal of his Benz and dashed through a red light, not really caring about all of the traffic laws he was breaking right now. His fist was wrapped protectively around the small object in his hand while the other was on the steering wheel. He gunned the engine again and finally found the street he was looking for. The tail of his car did a wild spin but he paid no mind. He quickly screeched his vehicle to a halt—half on the sidewalk and half off—and threw the door open, lunging outside.

His fingers were on his cell phone, dialing as quickly as he could.

His adrenaline was pumping so fast he thought his heart was going to burst. He ran up to the door in front of him and began banging his pointer finger against the _Arisawa_ buzzer as quickly as he possibly could.

His phone took note of four rings before the person on the other end picked up.

"Ichigo?" Tatsuki sounded breathless and groggy all at the same time, Ichigo could only guess what _she'd _been doing all night.

"Tatsuki," Ichigo heaved, his chest expanding and contracting wildly. "Let me in. Let me in right now."

"Kurosaki," Tatsuki muttered and then paused for a moment, "Is… is that you ringing my—? Oh fuck… you're so gonna get it you fucking—"

Tatsuki cut herself off with a gasp even though Ichigo was keeping silent. He knew that she knew what was going on.

"Renji," Tatsuki barked into the room, a grumble came from behind her and Ichigo cringed, "Get up, Ichigo's outside."

He heard a very faint "what the hell does he want?" and pressed his finger onto the buzzer even harder, although it didn't increase the sound at all.

"Get up you big lug," Tatsuki muttered before she heaved herself from the bed—Ichigo could hear the springs squeak—and rustled around for her clothes. "He's found something."

Only a second later there was another squeak of the bed and another rustle for clothing.

"Gimme a sec," Tatsuki said into the phone, all traces of grogginess leaving her voice. "Just let me buzz you in."

Ichigo heard her bound across the floors of her apartment and fling herself at the little call box. The door clicked open and Ichigo rushed himself inside, pounding up the steps until he got to Tatsuki's apartment on the fifth floor. She was at the door waiting for him, cell phone still in hand, wearing boxer shorts—that were not hers—and a shirt that read KPD on it. Renji was behind her with his hair hanging low on his shoulders and a pair of jeans hanging even lower on his hips.

"What is it?" He demanded as soon as Ichigo was inside.

Instead of answering them, Ichigo turned to the two people in front of him, his friend and his one-time rival—the reporter and the detective—and held out his hand.

Tatsuki could not restrain her gasp and Renji's eyes widened until they were almost as large as tennis balls.

"It's a flash drive," Renji murmured in awe, his hand reaching out but his fingers not actually touching it. The gold device glittered in Ichigo's palm like an unrestrained beacon of hope.

"Where did you find this?" Tatsuki demanded after a moment's silence.

Ichigo smirked and curled his fist around the small device.

"Right under my nose."

*~*~*

"Does this come or go?" Momo asked Rukia as she held up a small vase that curved into the shape of an obese swan.

"Go," Rukia told her and Momo, shrugging, chucked it into the trash bin they had set up. The glass shattered and split the air with a small shriek but neither of them paid any mind.

"You have way too many books," Momo told her as Rukia shoved one after another into a box. "I mean… have you actually read all of these?"

"Of course," Rukia muttered, her voice slightly more alive than it had been a few weeks ago. "When I was growing up I had to read all of the classics before I was twelve, everything from Homer to Salinger… after I hit puberty the books just got bigger and bigger."

"Damn," Momo murmured, "I think I was still reading Seuss when I was twelve."

"Byakuya didn't allow those _childish_ books in the house," Rukia told her as she thoughtlessly tossed out a pair of cherub salt and pepper shakers.

"Sucks." Momo grunted.

"Yeah."

The two resumed packing in silence.

Rukia's apartment was almost barren compared to the way it had been only a scant few days ago. A few days ago tasteful paintings had covered the walls. A few days ago her furniture had not been covered up with plastic sheets. A few days ago she still had dishes in the sink and in the cabinets. A few days ago she had had books on the shelves and a television in the living room and movies on shelves.

Not anymore.

For the past seventy two hours, she and Momo had done almost nothing but pack and sleep and eat. Their bodies moved like ghosts around Rukia's apartment—silent and sluggish. The two friends had packed up clothing, accessories, furniture, and everything else aside from the items that were far too big to move or the ones that they needed for the next few days.

"When are they coming to pick up the stuff?" Momo asked her for the third time today.

"Thursday," Rukia said quietly, taping up the boxes and labeling them with a black sharpie. "It'll be delivered to our new apartment by Sunday."

"And we leave?"

Rukia paused and ripped the tape off the end with more force than was probably necessary. "Friday." She whispered lightly. "We leave Friday."

Momo stopped in her motions and stood up. Rukia lifted her head and watched as her friend glided over to one of the windows in her apartment. The bright, early morning sun was just shining through, casting long and dark shadow onto the ground behind her. She softly folded her arms under her breasts and placed the flats of her palms against her sides. She stared out into the morning and let out a long, slow, sigh.

"Two days…" she murmured, not even blinking as she spoke. "Two days and we'll be gone from his place. Gone from the memories, gone from the people… gone from everything."

Rukia studied her friend after a moment and tried to frown. She tried to but found that her face didn't have it in itself to make actual expressions anymore. "Are you… regretting it now?"

Momo shook her head stiffly and closed her eyes. "No… no… I don't think I am."

Rukia knew that voice. She blinked up at Momo and watched her silently. "But…"

Her friend sighed and she shook her head. "I just… I wonder what would happen… what would happen if we saw them again."

Rukia's heart took a moment to drop deeper into her stomach.

_What would happen if I saw _him_ again?_ Rukia thought quietly, keeping it in the back part of her mind. _What would happen?_

She had already seen him once since he had crushed and shattered her heart… and she had run away.

But… if she had stayed?

Would he have explained what happened? Would he have told her that she was being ridiculous? Would he have smacked her upside the head and called her stupid and then kissed her senseless?

She pressed two fingers to her mouth and closed her eyes. She could barely remember what his kisses felt like. Hell, she could barely remember what they tasted like. Her raw eyes became enflamed and she shook away the thought. She was so sick of crying.

"Do you think," she began quietly, "That you could face him again?"

"Shiro?" Momo whispered. She paused and looked back out the window. "I… I don't know." She shifted her eyes back to her friend and sighed, tilting her head to the side. "I think that if I could have… _told_ him and _made_ him understand that I didn't do what he thinks I did… I think that if he would listen to me… then I might've wanted to see him."

Rukia simply nodded and closed her eyes, willing her mind to forget what her heart wanted so desperately to remember—in particular Ichigo's kiss.

But she couldn't. The lingering desire was still there. As fresh as new rain. She sighed and came to stand next to Momo, her head lolling down onto her friend's shoulder.

_I wish I could kiss him again._

*~*~*

"Where did you find this?" Tatsuki demanded breathlessly as her eyes scanned the contents of the files. They seemed to widen with each little icon her gaze passed over. Behind her, Renji was doing the exact same. Ichigo, who had already looked over all of the files—and had even opened a few—was pacing the room, his feet falling into a rhythm that mirrored his frantically spinning mind. As he passed he watched the scrolling list show the seemingly endless expanse of files and… and videos.

"It was attached to a lamp," he whispered turning away and swiveling back into his oval-esque pacing, "As a kind of trick thing…" He made a very strange hand gesture in an attempt to explain it but failed miserably since his audience's attention was fixed on the screen in front of them.

"Oh my God…" Renji choked, his eyes bugging out of his head to an extent Ichigo had never seen before. "I c-can't believe it… you actually… you actually…"

"Found it?" Ichigo croaked, shaking his head, "I know…"

"There's even… there's even video of… of… Christ." Tatsuki gasped. Her fingers clicked away and opened a video file. The item needed only a sparse three seconds to load but in those seconds Ichigo crossed the room and parked himself in front of the screen. He had seen what this file had been labeled but had not had the guts to watch it himself.

Together, the three people behind the computer watched in horror as the film played out.

_A chuckling, smirking man. The glinting of shining glasses. The adjustment of a camera. Wavering vision. A dark room. An unconscious woman in a beautiful dress. The harsh tearing of ripping cloth._

Tatsuki pressed her hand to her mouth and turned her head away, even though her eyes remained on the gruesome screen. Ichigo's hands tightened on the back of her chair and Renji cleared his throat violently. All three of them seemed to shrink at the expectation of what was coming.

_The rough presses of hard handling. A clinking of a belt. A swish of fabric. A hiss of happiness. Grunts of pleasure. Unconscious moans of pain and discomfort._

"I can't watch this," Tatsuki gasped, shoving her hand onto the top half of her computer and pushed the screen down. The video and the sound stopped and she thrust the entire computer away from her.

"That's so sick…" Renji gasped out, pushing his own gaze to the ground and shuddering as if he had just gotten the chills.

Ichigo swallowed hard and fought to push the images that the video had provided him with as far back into his head as he could. But now that he had seen it… now that he had confirmed all the suspicions… he knew that that video would be in his mind for the rest of his life.

Tatsuki's eyes flickered up towards Ichigo and Renji. Her hand slithered up the back of the seat and Ichigo watched as Renji's calloused fingers intertwined with hers. The moment was so tender and beautiful it made Ichigo resume his stubbornly determined pacing. Meanwhile, Renji tightened his grip and gently stroked his thumb over the line of Tatsuki's knuckles. Both were completely oblivious to Ichigo's sudden—but rather obvious—discomfort.

"We have him now," Ichigo whispered, disgust coating his throat. "We have him."

Renji nodded and pulled out his cell phone from his pocket—using the hand that was not holding Tatsuki's, Ichigo noted. Ichigo's throat was dry as he continued to practically jog back and forth across the room. His ears sharpened almost on instinct as he listened for the ringing of Renji's phone to begin.

After nearly eight rings someone on the other line picked up. Whoever it was seemed both irritated and amused by the fact that Renji Abarai was calling the precinct at nearly five in the morning. There was an unintelligible muttering over the other line as Renji demanded to speak to someone named Komamura. Ichigo shot a glance at Tatsuki and she whispered, "The Captain of Renji's precinct."

Ichigo nodded and both he and Tatsuki listened intently as the line was patched through to another number. Finally, after another twenty rings—_it feels more like forty_—someone on the other line picked up, demanded who the hell would call at the ungodly hour, and added in that a meteorite had better be headed for the station or else whoever this is _"will not live to see the light of another day."_

"It's not a meteorite sir," Renji stated in a rough voice, the man on the other line started growling but Renji cut him off before he could say another word, "I have something sir. And it's something that you really need to see."

*~*~*

Renji's precinct captain was a very scruffy looking man by the name of Sajin Komamura. Ichigo could only assume that he was extra scruffy at this particular hour because he had been called into the precinct at an "ungodly" time this morning, he probably hadn't had time to trim the edges of his extensive beard yet. Either way, naturally scruffy or not, he was sitting in his office chair, examining the small flash drive held between his thick fingers and grimacing at the same time. His mouth—which was almost completely lost inside of a thick, orange, beard—was pulled into a deep frown. He grunted loudly enough for Ichigo—who was standing outside of the door, obviously eavesdropping—to hear clearly.

Ichigo heard the man clear his throat and rumble, "Where did you get this?"

"Outside source," Renji's voice stated, his tone rough with lack of sleep.

Ichigo's hands brushed over the bottom of his face and felt that he also had a substantial amount of angry stubble residing on his chin. Hell, he had been up all night _along_ with Tatsuki and Renji.

He closed his eyes softly and thought of Tatsuki, sitting outside in his Benz, waiting while her hands flew over her much abused laptop keyboard. She was killing time—_could it really even be called that?_—by writing her _Ledger_ story, simply waiting for Renji to bring word on whether or not a criminal investigation would be held against Sosuke Aizen.

Ichigo's fingers tensed on the frame of the door he was clutching; his ears were practically bleeding at the intensity at which he was eavesdropping… ah… harmlessly listening in.

"What kind of friend?" Komamura demanded, skepticism lacing his tone. Ichigo leaned his head even further towards the door and heard him shift in his chair.

"A reliable friend," Renji said strongly.

Ichigo had to raise his eyebrow at that. He had never really considered Renji a friend… rival yes, ally yes, but friend? That might be stretching it a bit.

"What's on this?" Komamura demanded quietly.

"Evidence of Sosuke Aizen raping Momo Hinamori to start," Renji told his captain on an exhale.

"And to finish?"

Ichigo sighed with slight relief; at least the man sounded interested now.

"I believe that if our computer techs get their hands on this drive they could find anything from payment for an assassination job on Byakuya Kuchiki as well as notes on the hostile takeover on the Gotei Corporation—including the recent incident involving Rukia Kuchiki." He said clearly, his voice growing in confidence with each word he spoke.

There was a slight pause when Komamaru seemingly leaned back in his chair and crossed his arms over his chest. Or, at least, that's what it sounded like. Ichigo couldn't be certain. While he desperately wanted to nudge his head over the side of the frame, just to see the big man's reaction, he knew he needed to wait. He knew better than that. His hair would get him noticed almost instantly.

"Where did you say you got this?"

"A fri—"

"It was a rhetorical question Abarai," his captain snarled, sounding more like a dog with his hackles raised than anything else.

That seemed to throw Renji for a second. "Sir I don't—"

"What kind of _friend_ Abarai?" He demanded, his chair squeaking again and his voice getting even heavier. "A cop? A civilian? A lawyer? A fireman? A baker? A clown? _Who?_"

_Two outta three ain't bad._

"He's not a cop sir," Renji said softly. Ichigo could tell by his tone that even though he was an extremely tough police officer, he obviously didn't like getting reamed by his boss. "He is _technically_ a lawyer, sir, but—"

A string of expletives filtered through the captain's beard and spurted from his mouth.

"_But_," Renji pressed on, bravely ignoring the outburst, "He's not with the district attorney. I did not, in any way, violate the fourth amendment here. He's a lawyer with the Suigetsu Corporation."

The three-second pause that ensued after Renji spoke seemed as long as three fucking years. Or at least it did to Ichigo, who was maniacally fidgeting outside.

"Suigetsu?" Komamaru demanded lightly, "What the hell is someone from Suigetsu Incorporated doing _stealing_ from one of their top executives? Hell, what's someone from Suigetsu Inc. doing trying to get their boss thrown in _jail_?"

Renji's voice was as hard as steel as he replied, "With all due respect, _sir_, but if your boss was being indicated in a rape as well as a murder wouldn't you want him out of the top spot as well?"

Ichigo could just picture the scene inside of the office. Renji, standing at attention with his shoulders back and his head held high; his job, his entire career in the force, and possibly even his future pension was on the line right now. Ichigo clenched his jaw at the thought that Renji was doing all of this for some guy who had stolen his once-upon-a-time dream-girl. He could also practically see his captain, this Komamaru guy, sitting in his desk with his hands clenched under his chin. Ichigo could tell by his tone that the man was not pleased. His bushy beard was probably spilling over his fingers and a frown was most likely carved into his murderous face.

"How do I know this is legit?" He demanded in a gruff voice.

_Thank god, _Ichigo thought, _he's cracking._

"All of the documents on the file are attributed to Sosuke Aizen's personal or work computer," Renji said confidently, his more-self-assured persona coming back with each word he spoke. "Plus, the video footage on this drive clearly shows _him_ raping Momo Hinamori, who's unconscious at the time."

Ichigo could just imagine Renji's captain's face tightening in disgust.

"Not to mention there's documentation of the attempted Kuchiki assassination—and by that I mean _pre_ and _post_. This guys a digital pack rat; he hasn't thrown anything away throughout this whole ordeal. We have documents that lead us to believe he hired an assassin who was trained in daylight-style executions of big wigs. Further into the flash-drive there are several articles from online newspapers. These detail how other businessmen were assassinated in the exact same way… daylight, common sniper rifle, it's the same M.O. and it fits. This guy obviously did research beforehand."

Komamaru grunted. "You sure you're not just grasping at straws and trying to connect your cases, _Abarai?_"

The added inflection made Ichigo's mouth curl. As if Renji could actually have the brain power, the man power, or the money to ever pull off something as elaborate as this.

No… this scheme had to be done by someone as twisted, as brilliant, and as rich as Sosuke Aizen. There was just no way it was anyone else.

"Sir, this is for real. It's the real flash drive, the real evidence, and the real perp right in front of us." Renji's voice was hard and his tone was icy, "If we don't act on this now there's no telling who else might fall in the way of this psycho."

The statement was terse and measured. Ichigo swallowed hard and strained his ears even more. All he could hear was the tapping of a pen against a desk as well as the sound of heavy breathing from both men in the room.

Ichigo had to remind himself to breathe.

"Fine. Pick him up."

"_Yes!_" Ichigo hissed, his fists clenching together and his teeth gritted in victory. He quickly whipped out his cell phone and punched a message onto the screen and sent it on its way to Tatsuki.

Inside the office, Renji thanked his captain and assured him that he'd call the district attorney to get a warrant as soon as possible.

His captain only grunted and said, "You'd better not fuck this one up Abarai."

Seconds later, Renji emerged from the room. He turned to Ichigo, smirked, and said triumphantly, "Let's go get the bastard."

**(A/N: So? What did you think? Things are starting to look up, right? Oh, and kindly remember I beta my own work so please forgive any spelling/grammar mistakes.**

**Okay, onto the serious stuff:**

**Dearest of readers/reviewers… the reason for this rather strangely timed update is because… well… I have just finished writing and editing all that is left of **_**Odalisque**_**.**

**There are two more chapters left for you to read. I swear, I feel like I had a cat that just died. I mean, this story has taken me almost an entire year to write. It is exactly eight hundred pages (the way I have it formatted) on Microsoft Word. And on both of the sites where I post I have over two thousand combined number of reviews.**

**So, as a prelude to my very last author's note I will go ahead and say this: Thank you to everyone who had read a sentence, a paragraph, a chapter, or the entire thing. Thank you for taking the time to read this and review for this story and most of all, thank you for sticking with it and me. :)**

**PLEASE DON'T FORGET TO REVIEW!!!)**


	44. Chapter 43

**Disclaimer: I do not own Bleach or any Bleach affiliates.**

_**Odalisque**_

**Chapter 43**

The sunlight streaming through Rukia's window Wednesday morning tickled her nose with its delinquent brightness. Limply, she turned her head to the other side of the pillow and sighed, willing the sun to go away so she could sleep some more.

Her bleary eyes wandered about the room for a moment before finally settling onto her alarm clock—which she hadn't even bothered setting for the past two weeks. It was only a little after seven and the sun was already rising.

_Spring,_ Rukia thought tiredly, pushing herself deeper into the covers of her bed. The heavy comforter weighed down on her and she relished it. However, after only a few more moments of lying in her bed, she slowly pushed herself up. Her limbs creaked in protest as she propped herself up against the headboard. She blinked twice and fought back a small yawn as she surveyed her room. Her bed, actually, was one of the only things that hadn't been subjected to any sort of packing boxes or heavy tape. Her neck groaned—as it was like to do today—as she turned her gaze towards the other containers littering her room.

All of her books, all of her memorabilia, and nearly all of her clothing were already packed. She and Momo only had the barest of essentials left in the apartment. They had just what they needed to survive the next two days.

_Two days…_

She swallowed and slowly slipped her body from under the sheets. Her tired feet hit the cold wood of her bedroom floor and she fought a small shiver. It came anyway and she figured it was for the best. At least she was getting back into the habit of feeling things. Feeling nothing at all was just becoming annoying.

_I'm feeling physical things anyway, _she thought tiredly,_ but I don't know how long emotional ones will take to come back._

With a small yawn she stepped heavily into the hallway and made her way into the kitchen. The smell of coffee brewing hit her nose and she frowned. "Momo?" She called, hearing light shuffling inside of the room. She slid through the open door frame and blinked when she saw her best friend sitting at the table, sipping a cup of coffee and reading a magazine.

She looked up slowly—Rukia noted that her eyes were puffy once again—and gave a weak, watery, smile. "Morning." Her voice was raw and dry. Rukia's heart sank in her chest when she recognized that tone.

"Didn't sleep, did you?" She murmured, moving ghost-like into the kitchen and pulling a cup from the sparse shelf. Her hands shook as she poured the coffee inside the hollow cup and she slowly brought it to her lips, eyeing Momo over the top.

Her friend looked at her sadly, "Not a wink."

"It'll get better," Rukia said, her voice so flat and unconvincing that she winced at how obviously she recognized the lie in her own tone.

Momo noticed it as well and she nodded. She knew that Rukia was also blatantly lying, the waver in her false smile said as much. Rukia knew that Momo, in whatever state, would never kill even a small false hope that fell from Rukia's lips.

Because… well, at least it was hope. False or not.

Rukia came to sit at the small table and sighed softly as silence fell between the two of them.

After a few more minutes, Rukia blinked up at Momo and took a small sip of her tasteless coffee. "What are you going to do today?" She asked quietly.

Momo shrugged and listlessly turned the page of her magazine. Rukia could tell she wasn't even reading it. "I think I'll go shopping," she said in a small voice.

Rukia's head lifted and her eyebrows furrowed gently. _She's going out?_

Momo looked up and smiled weakly at Rukia's puzzled expression. She flipped through another page of her magazine and sighed in exhaustion. "We need some new things for the move. I was thinking about buying some new throw pillows and a few rugs." She shifted her head to her friend and murmured, "What do you think?"

She nodded slowly, "Sure… we'll need some new things…"

"I'll probably be gone most of the day."

"Fine… I'll just keep packing up."

Momo bobbed her head up and down, drank the last dregs of coffee in the base of her cup, and slowly got up from her seat. Rukia bit her lip as she watched her friend. She moved as if her entire body was stricken with arthritis. But then again, that was probably what Rukia looked like when she walked as well.

Only ten minutes later Momo was dressed and ready to leave. A baggy sweatshirt covered the top half of the holiest jeans she owned. Rukia grimaced at the clothes; she had seen them before. They were the: _I don't care if I'm seen in them_ clothes that Momo always seemed to wear after a breakup. This time, however, her countenance seemed to match up with her drab clothing. She was just as gray and as lifeless as that pathetic sweatshirt.

Rukia sighed and looked down at herself. She wasn't much better. She had been wearing nothing but ratty tee shirts and shorts for days on end. Hell, some days she didn't even bother changing out of her bedclothes.

_But what's the point anyway?_ She mused, toeing a packing box with her foot. She sighed and watched Momo open the door—gently this time, as opposed to her normal way of jerking them back hard. Rukia shook her head, it seemed as though both of them thought that if they were quiet enough, maybe they'd be able to disappear. Just leave everything behind.

_Start over._

Momo stopped outside of the door and bent down slowly. Her fingers grasped the rolled edges of their daily newspaper and she tossed it gently onto the table. She gave Rukia a weak smile and quietly slipped outside.

The silence in the room was nearly palpable. Rukia shifted in her chair and aimlessly swirled the dregs of her coffee in her cup. They tumbled and danced around each other without care of immersing themselves in the black liquid. Scowling, she lifted the cup and placed it gently inside the sink, allowing the cool water from the tap to drown the waltzing leftovers. Soon enough they spilled out from over the top and were swallowed by the drain.

Rukia rolled her sore muscles and looked around the sparse room. She couldn't remember a time when her apartment had looked so bare—other than when she had first moved in, of course. Nearly everything was packed so neatly into little boxes. Everything she had ever owned and kept inside of this home filed and organized as if they were files inside of a cabinet. Still, once she rounded up the few straggling pieces, she and Momo would be free to send this stuff away. All the way away… all the way to New York City.

"Three thousand miles," Rukia whispered, her tone barely breaking the repressive stillness of the air around her.

Her hands curled onto her lap and she sighed. Half of her still couldn't believe she was doing this. Fleeing across the world to escape a man who had shattered her heart.

Although, it wasn't as though she hadn't done it before. It had never been to this extent though. After… after Kaien, she and Momo had both tried to find jobs as far away from their university as possible. She knew that Kaien had been accepted as a professor and she had wanted to be as distant from him as she could. She couldn't think about even being in the same _city_ with him after what he had done.

It had been a miracle when both she and her roommate had found work in Karakura. The area was perfect: her brother worked nearby, it was the center of commerce in a nearly five hundred mile radius, and it was clear across the country from Kaien.

She snorted humorlessly and shook her head. She guessed it was fitting that she should be repeating nearly the exact same process with Ichigo Kurosaki. However this time she'd be going even further away. The greater the heartbreak, the greater the distance, she reasoned.

_If this happens again I'll have no choice but to go Antarctica,_ she thought miserably, feeling the familiar burning sensation inside of her chest. She shoved it down and tried her best to think of all the things that would have to be done in the next three days. All of the moving, all of the transportation, all of the manpower she'd have to hire…

She sighed and ran a hand through her hair. This was a lot of stuff but it was good. The lists would keep her mind away from the reality of what she was doing. Rukia had a sinking feeling in the pit of her stomach that she'd only _truly_ realize how big of a change she made when she was sitting in her new apartment in New York City.

Sighing, she slowly heaved herself off of the couch and began packing up more accessories from the living room. The cardboard edges of the boxes pricked her skin as she folded them. The weights of simple figurines felt like cement blocks against her muscles. After only about two hours she felt drained. It was only when some of the room started spinning when she stood up did she realize that she hadn't really eaten anything in the past few days.

Grudgingly, she went into the kitchen and poured herself a cup of barely warm coffee. She took two slices of staling bread from a small bag and propped them into the toaster. Turning listlessly away—much like she had been feeling for the past few days, but hey, at least she was moving about and actually feeding herself—she ran her fingers over the dining room table. The rich wood was silky underneath of her tips and she closed her eyes… imaging it was warm skin instead.

Her soft moment of respite was interrupted when her small finger hit an oblong object resting on the top of the table. Inwardly wishing that her little fantasy could continue, she opened her eyes and sighed.

_Oh yeah,_ she grumbled,_ the paper._

She looked over at her toast and saw that it had a few more moments. Turning back to the interrupter of her daydreams, she gently flipped the paper over, unfolded the edges, and smoothed it out with her fingertips.

Her heart stopped.

_**Aizen Indicted; Kuchiki Cleared**_.

Her body jerked away from the table, her mouth opened in a desperate gasp, her hands started to sweat, and her eyes remained locked on the words blaring on the front of the newspaper.

Her heart—as if only now recognizing what was going on—was just starting to beat again. It was going slowly though, as if it was confused as to what was happening to its owner. Rukia just knew that her head was pounding and her breath was gasping and her body was shaking with the violence of an earthquake.

Slowly… ever so slowly… she stepped towards the paper. She felt like she was stepping gingerly onto thinning ice. Her heart was beginning to come around a bit more. It was hammering now. Truly hammering. Her dizzy head was spinning even more.

She took one more tentative inch and was in front of it. Her entire body was tingling.

_What _is_ this?_

Her body dropped lifelessly into a seat at the table and her quaking hands slowly pulled the thick bunch of papers in front of her.

_**Aizen Indicted; Kuchiki Cleared**_

**By Tatsuki Arisawa**

_The colloquial saying for situations like this is: oh how the mighty fall. Or perhaps I should say the bigger they are the harder they fall. Both of these statements aptly describe the circumstances now surrounding business mogul Sosuke Aizen, who was just yesterday, indicted in Karakura Criminal Court of rape, conspiracy to murder, and money laundering._

_Through highly investigative means, an inside source has granted this reporter exclusive access into the workings of the criminal activities now surrounding Suigetsu Incorporated and it's Chief Executive Officer. This is such a story._

_So, if you'll forgive me, my readers, I must tell you that I am abandoning my usual journalistic style of writing today. I do not believe that an event such as this can be contained in the bare-bones style of journalistic writing. So please, my readers, think of this piece as a story instead of the articles you have come to expect from someone such as myself._

_Hopefully all of my readers already know of the hostile takeover of the Gotei Corporation by Suigetsu Incorporated. If not, please educate yourselves before reading the rest of this article. However, allow me to mention that this takeover was done under the assumption that the Kuchiki Corporation heiress Rukia Kuchiki betrayed her own company to aid Suigetsu Incorporated falsify documents. It was earlier stated that the companies planned to merge, when it reality, it was a takeover of the most hostile kind—one in which Ms. Kuchiki was a participant. However, this reporter has gained information that denounces such allegations._

_According to insider information, it was Sosuke Aizen who had several unregistered employees working on the hostile takeover while Rukia Kuchiki and Ichigo Kurosaki were diligently crafting papers for a merger between the two companies._

_To continue in the vein of taking over companies, I would inquire to my readers: how many of you remember the attempted murder of Kuchiki Corporation mogul Byakuya Kuchiki? Some startling new evidence has come to light on this heinous act._

_Byakuya Kuchiki was shot in broad daylight in the middle of October only a few meters away from his office building in the center of the Karakura. He was shot twice in the chest with a sniper rifle and rushed to the emergency room at Karakura General Hospital. Miraculously, Kuchiki survived and has made a rapid recovery._

_The fact remains, however, that Byakuya Kuchiki was shot twice and kill records have been found on the very same flash drive where all of our other incriminating documents were located._

_Sosuke Aizen had intended to take over the Gotei Corporation so that he would have the majority product manufacturing for the Kuchiki Corporation, almost ninety percent, for that matter. With Byakuya Kuchiki—the head of the company—out of the way and the company in complete disarray, who better than Sosuke Aizen to swoop in and save the day? Obviously he would have been the next logical choice for the chief executive officer of the Kuchiki Corporation._

_Byakuya Kuchiki lived, however, thus cramping Aizen's plans. It did not, however, stop him. This reporter has no doubt that, had Sosuke Aizen been left undiscovered as the mastermind behind this devious plot, another attempt on Byakuya Kuchiki's life would have been made._

_Perhaps the most repulsive of the crimes of Sosuke Aizen was the rape of a personal secretary employed by the Gotei Corporation. This young woman was also the assistant to the aforementioned Rukia Kuchiki. Only recently, she became engaged to a brilliant young man who was being groomed to inherit all of the Gotei Corporation from its owner, Mr. Yamamoto._

_Yet through evidence found on a cleverly concealed flash drive—on which Aizen kept all of his files connecting him to these allegations—we have discovered that it was indeed Sosuke Aizen who drugged and sexually assaulted this woman—who I will not name due to extenuating circumstances. Later, said man used his undignified connections to edit the tape. The edited version this reporter has seen with her very own eyes. I will not describe that horrific experience again. What was more horrific was the depth of the twisted mind of Sosuke Aizen in regards to this video. The video was made to show her as a willing partner although she was unconscious during the event. The edited video was the one sent anonymously to her fiancé. This was supposedly done so that her fiancé would become so distracted by his supposedly unfaithful betrothed that he would not notice a takeover of the Gotei Corporation._

_Sosuke Aizen, however, has not only sacrificed the happiness of one young couple in love, he has done it to two._

_Rukia Kuchiki was framed through Aizen's dealings. She was made the scapegoat of the entire operation by both companies and subsequently, fired from both. My inside source was credited with receiving this quote from Aizen himself: "Women like her don't belong in a world like this."_

_While I could spend pages discussing the disgustingly blatant anti-feminism practically oozing from such a comment, I will digress. Not only had Aizen managed to kill her career, he also managed to manipulate her personal life as well._

_Ms. Kuchiki was led on the belief that her close partner and companion, Ichigo Kurosaki, was the one who betrayed her within the corporation. However, it was not of Kurosaki's doing, but of—you guessed it—Aizen's. Aizen tricked both lawyers into signing falsified documents claiming they had explicit knowledge of the hostile take-over, when in fact, they had no idea such a plan existed. Such an act is of course, heinous, however, it that was not even the worst part._

_Her name was Orihime Inoue and her occupation was a secretary to the Suigetsu Corporation's seventh floor—the same floor where Ichigo Kurosaki and Rukia Kuchiki worked. Aizen used her extreme infatuation with Kurosaki to encourage her to hire a private detective. This detective spied on both Kuchiki and Kurosaki during their most intimate of moments, resulting in a slew of images that were then used against her. To take matters even further, intimate images containing Orihime Inoue and Ichigo Kurosaki were set up and taken by the private detective. This was done to make Rukia Kuchiki believe that the man in question had betrayed her in both the business sense and the personal sense. Orihime Inoue has also been indicted for stalking and conspiracy to commit espionage._

_Presently I believe that I have discussed every reprehensible act committed by Sosuke Aizen over the past few months. However, at this point in the article, I would like to turn over my keyboard to the person who made this article, this indictment, and this clarification happen: Ichigo Kurosaki. He has something to say to the woman who was hurt most by all of Aizen's treachery…_

_--_

_Rukia…_

_To say this is awkward would be an understatement. I had always imagined that when I told you this it would be a bit more private and not circulated to millions of people around the world. Well, if I would have said it at all. I know I would have eventually but I would have needed to get my head out of my ass first. I find it sad that only after losing you did I realize how much you meant to me._

_Rukia Kuchiki, I don't know how else to say this so I'll just say it._

_I love you. I want to be with you in every sense of the word._

_I can only hope that you'll give me a second chance. I'll be waiting._

_--_

_Aizen Sosuke has been indicted on all of the federal crimes listed above. Those being indicted along with him are Gin Ichimaru, who it is believed aided in the alleged rape and the charges of money laundering, as well as Kaname Tousen, a prominent local restaurateur with ties to the mob. It is suspected that Kaname Tousen ordered the hit on Kuchiki Corporation mogul, Byakuya Kuchiki._

_Tatsuki Arisawa_

Rukia's heart was thundering inside of her chest faster than she could ever recall. The erratic beating was heavy in her ears and her grasping fingers were completely numb. Her entire body was tingling. Her eyes were wide and she could swear that drops of salty wetness were slipping down the sides of her face.

The paper fell from her trembling hands and onto the floor. She was standing and she didn't know when she had commanded her muscles to move.

_I'll be waiting._

Her hands slipped over the doorknob twice before she was able to grasp it firmly enough. It jerked open on the second tug because she had actually forgotten to twist the knob in order to open it. Her bare feet stumbled down the hallway until the elevator was within reach. With one bleary look at the number listings she knew that she would not be able to wait until it came to her floor. Her body propelled itself towards the stairs and before she knew it she was running. Her dizziness increased with each declining step she took and she thought it a miracle that she didn't fall.

In one mighty push—one that her body didn't realize it possessed—she shoved open the door and tumbled into the reception area. Her legs were numb and jerking as several lobby patrons stared at her distastefully. There was, however, an elderly man she knew to be the late night doorman standing behind the counter. His eyes locked with hers and she swore she saw a twinkle appear in them. Quickly, as if swatting a fly off of the top of his head, he jerked his head towards the door.

She saw his hair first… his beautiful, bright, ridiculous hair. He was pacing furiously. He was digging his fingers into his scalp so hard he must have caused deep marks. And he was constantly moving in and out of her range of vision. His scowl that she loved so much was fixed even deeper onto his face and a type of worry that she had never seen before was etched into the rest of his features. The light jacket he was wearing flapped against him with every step he took and passers-by had to jerk out of his way so as not to get mauled.

A small sob escaped Rukia's constricted throat.

_Ichigo._

Before she could even _think_ to go forward, her legs were running. Before she could command her arms to shove at the revolving doors, they were raised. Before she could even think about whispering his name, her mouth had already cried out the words.

His body screeched to a halt in the middle of a furious pace. He whipped around, his hair ruffling in the wind and his jacket flaps flying outward. The furious worry that she had seen on his beautiful face melted away as if it had never existed. She felt more hot wetness run down her cheeks as she let out another sob.

"Ichigo," she whispered, finally freeing herself from the constricting doors. The instant her bare feet made contact with the cold concrete and she was running. She was running with more urgency than she had ever run in her life.

He was coming towards her, his feet propelling him as quickly as they could but Rukia knew that her steps were faster. She was so close. The wind whipped her as she reached…

_Home._

Ichigo's arms wrapped around her waist and he pulled her up, yanking her feet off of the cold ground and enveloping her against his chest. He spun her around as he buried his face into her hair, inhaling as though he was desperate for the air. Rukia let out a small sob and wrapped her arms around his neck with a frantic desperation she never knew she possessed. His strong arms were so tight across her back; he was holding her so closely that she could feel every one of his heartbeats against her chest. Rukia's face was pressed in the crook between his neck and shoulder. His skin felt so hot and her body trembled at the feeling of such intensity.

"Oh God Rukia…" he groaned, pulling her even harder against his body. One of his arms left her waist and traveled to tangle his fingers into her hair. The way he gripped her… his motions were so filled with frantic need that it was unbelievable.

She whispered his name and held onto him even tighter, barely aware of the fact that people on the street were staring at them—some whispering, some sighing, and some scoffing. More tears were falling from her face. She felt like she couldn't stop them no matter how much she wanted to.

Ichigo must have felt something because not a moment later he pulled away and looked deeply into her watering eyes. "Don't cry," he whispered, his own eyes crinkled into something akin to pleading. "Please… don't—Rukia…"

He leaned forward and his lips were instantly crushing hers. If he had intended to make her stop crying Rukia didn't know why he did this. Tasting him once again was like stepping a foot back into heaven after being removed for so long. The feel of him, the texture of him, the scent of him, and the taste of him was so fantastic it made the tears on her cheeks fall even faster. Frantically, she moved her mouth against his. Desperate to catch every part of him for fear this was some sort of dream.

"Ichigo," she choked, finally breaking away from him. Her very breath seemed stolen from her lungs. "Oh God… I missed you so much."

"I love you," he whispered, his breath caressing her nape as he pressed his lips along the column of her neck. Her chest contracted as those words slammed into her. Another sob racked her body and she urgently dragged a hand to Ichigo's rough cheek. His mouth—his beautiful, handsome, mouth—was pulled onto hers. Her lips devoured him, hoping with all hope inside of her that he could know how much she loved him through this kiss. Her lips parted and she pried his open and she urged him to take her. She wanted him to taste her so fully that nothing he could do could or would ever erase her essence from his mouth.

He surged towards her with such a wonderful strength that she felt her knees weaken. His arms held her snugly and she shivered as he kissed her and kissed her and kissed her even more.

"Ichigo," she gasped, finally ripping her mouth away from his, desperately gasping for breath. Her buried her face into his neck and shuddered at how good he felt. "Take me upstairs… _please_."

He nodded against her and then she was moving. She knew it must have looked ridiculous for a man to be carrying her into her own apartment building but right now she couldn't care. She just couldn't let go of him. She _wouldn't _let go of him. Not when he was here and holding her tightly to his chest.

_Ichigo is here… he is _here_._

She hid her face further into his neck and inhaled deeply. His arms moved her so that he was carrying her like a groom would carry his bride. She trembled at such a thought and she pressed kisses to his throat as he strode over to the elevator. She could feel the stares of the entire lobby around them but she resolutely ignored them. No amount of dirty looks or disgusted scoffs could tear her away from him today. The buttons glowed as the contraption reached the bottom floor and slid its doors open. His grip on her was tightened and he clutched her hard enough to make sure that she was practically molded to him.

Finally, he stepped inside and allowed the doors to slide shut. Her mouth was on his the moment the two sliding doors connected. He instantly shifted her in his arms and pressed her body up against the walls of the elevator. She clung to him like early morning dew onto a blade of grass as he clutched her just as close. His long, lean, body rubbed against the length of hers as the elevator slowly climbed. His growing stiffness was soon pressing against her thigh and she moaned at the feeling.

_This elevator is moving too slowly,_ she thought as his mouth trailed hungrily down her neck. She moaned and flexed her fingernails into the soft fabric of his jacket, pulling him even closer than before. Her lips desperately sought his again and he devoured her hungrily until the _ding_ of the elevator reached their ears.

Only then did Rukia wrap both of her arms around his neck and shift her legs so that they encircled his thin hips. His mouth descended upon hers and she shuddered as his fingers traced her spine. Inside of her stomach, she could feel the fire building. It was making her quiver and pant.

_So long… so _long_ without him._

"Ichigo," she gasped, breaking contact from his lips. Her eyes met his and she shivered at the heat she saw in him. He was just as hungry as she was. But there was something different about him this time. Underneath the intensity, underneath the passion, and underneath the raw starvation was a tenderness that she had never seen before. It unnerved her and warmed her at the same time. The desire in the pit of her stomach increased instantly.

She bent and kept her mouth hovering over his. Her eyes fluttered shut as she whispered: "I _need_ you."

He snapped. The door to her apartment slammed shut only a moment later as his arms tightened around her simultaneously. She pulled herself to him and nearly wept at the hurried sensations.

Ichigo gasped into her mouth as he slammed her up against the nearest wall he could find. Rukia let out a sharp cry but it was completely swallowed by Ichigo's devouring lips. His hunger was almost palpable as he pushed himself against her spread legs. He could already feel her wet sweetness through the thin scraps she wore as pajamas. She knew it was driving him crazy. It always drove him crazy.

_Ichigo._

His arms tightened around her, harder and harder until there was no space left between them. He angled his head to the side and fought desperately to taste every inch of her that he possibly could. The near month and a half that they had been apart was enough to drive him crazy with want. He was desperate… desperate to feel, to touch, and to suck every inch of Rukia's mouth into his own. His tongue slid sensually against hers and she moaned. Each brush was so purposeful and sweet it made her knees go weak and her arms shake.

She moaned beneath him and he felt a sharp prick on his bottom lip. He quickly wretched his mouth off of hers and found that he was panting like a dog in heat.

"Ichigo," she whispered, her breathing was just as choppy as his. Both of her hands came up to cup his face and she lowered her head until she could freely press light, fluttering kisses all over his forehead.

"Please Rukia," he begged, his voice sounded as if it had been shattered into a million pieces, "Just… just let me… I wanted to show you h-how much I love you but… but…" he jerked his head back and opened his eyes so that he was staring directly into those liquid-sapphire jewels he loved so much. Wetness pooled on the edges of her beautiful eyes and Ichigo quickly raised his mouth to kiss away the tears. "Shh… don't cry Rukia… oh fucking _Jesus_, I hate it when you cry."

"No," she choked, wanting to laugh at just how _Ichigo _he sounded. She shook her head softly so as not to dislodge his gentle lips, "I just… I know that you wanted this to be special but… Ichigo… I need you too." She pulled her head back and stared him straight in the eyes, determination, passion, and desire written throughout her entire expression. "And I need you _now_."

"Yes," he breathed, pressing his lips against hers once again. The moment his sensitive skin touched hers she felt an explosion of heat inside of her body. Her arms tightened around his neck until there was no respite for him. She needed him… needed him so badly. The time she had spent without him felt like an eternity. She had to be close to him to remind herself that this was real, and that he was here.

And that he loved her as much as she loved him.

One of his arms wrapped around her waist and he jerked away from the wall. His second hand tangled inside of her hair, gripping tightly enough to pull her head back and leave her completely bare to his oral assault. His tongue was insistent and hot and velvety smooth inside of her mouth. The pulse on her neck beat with the speed of a jackhammer as she moaned and felt her eyes roll into the back of her head.

_I have been deprived of Ichigo's talented tongue for far too long_, she gasped as his teeth nipped on the tip of hers.

He swept inside of her, tasting every inch that she could offer and consuming every part of her deliciously hot orifice. He teased her tongue into his mouth and urged her to taste him just as readily as he was tasting her. He was so addicting and soon enough Rukia found her chest heaving with the force it took her just to keep breathing. Desperately, she grasped the hand Ichigo had planted on her hip and dragged it upwards, placing his palm directly over her hammering heart.

An animalistic groan was ripped through Ichigo's throat as he jerked her upwards. As if on a reflex her legs came to wrap up around his waist. He hissed into her mouth as she ground herself against his growing length. Her ankles hooked behind his taunt thighs and he kissed her with even more force as he carried her to her bedroom.

Rukia could have cried at the realization that they were together on her bed once again. Her chest constricted and her eyes grew moist as she ripped her mouth from his. He swayed a bit on his feet and that diligent scowl on his face returned for a moment. His beautiful gaze searched her face as he stumbled inside of her room. His feet hit box after box until he was finally able to tumble onto the large bed.

Rukia was instantly trapped underneath his large body; his knees were planted on either side of her hips and his hands rested above her head. His gaze was locked on hers and Rukia could tell her thoughts were mirrored in his mind. She didn't know how long they stayed this way… with his body above hers, close but not touching, just staring at each other.

Only after several minutes, Ichigo's eyes flickered across her face and he leaned down slowly. Rukia hadn't even realized she was crying—_again_, she thought exasperatedly—until she felt his lips brushing away the fresh tears now rolling down her cheeks. She sighed and allowed her hands to grasp his face, her palms fitting into the curves of his cheeks.

"I love you," he whispered, his lips forming the words just as he hovered them over her ear.

The throbbing heart inside of Rukia's chest melted at his words and a sharp gasp echoed around the room. "Ichigo," she pleaded, her lips surged up to his and she cried wordlessly into his mouth. Desperation coated her actions as her hands moved to his shoulders and shoved off his jacket. He shuddered and devoured her delicious mouth just as frantically. Rukia's legs moved up and she pulled him down onto her body, meeting her hips with his. His kiss increased in huger as Rukia rolled her hands over his muscular arms. The sinew in his biceps bulged repeatedly as she traced her fingers over them.

"Rukia," he breathed, his lips wrenching from hers and trailing a line of fire down her neck. His teeth clawed at her flesh while his tongue soothed all of the marks he made. "God _Rukia_."

Her loose tee shirt was thrown over her head before she could even think about removing it. His mouth was kissing her chest with a frenzy unlike any she had ever felt before. He hungrily devoured the skin above her breasts. His tender lips were brushing the cotton of her bra and she shuddered softly. He groaned and pulled his mouth away from her skin. She mimicked his sensual groan at the loss of contact and weakly opened her hazy eyelids.

An expression of pain crossed over his face and her brows furrowed instantly. Her hands reached up to his cheeks and she caressed his temples gently. She was breathless as she asked, "W-What is it?"

He groaned and buried his face against his stomach. She gasped and brought her hands to intertwine them inside of his hair.

"You're so thin," he whispered against her skin, his hot breath fanning over her shuddering stomach lovingly. "Rukia… you haven't eaten _anything_ have you?"

"Ichigo," she sighed, caressing his scalp with her fingers. She couldn't decide whether she wanted to laugh or cry at his ridiculously sweet comment. She touched his ears and rubbed them softly between her fingertips. "Don't worry," she was quickly becoming breathless, she could feel Ichigo's tongue dipping in and out of her bellybutton. "You can… you can cook for me l-later."

His hands were already digging into the elastic waistband of her pants. Ever since that Monday—_it seems so far away_—she had not bothered to dress in anything more complex then ratty tees and sweatpants. Slowly, as if he were unwrapping a present, Ichigo rolled the cloth down her slim legs. They reached her knees and she trembled. He pulled them to her ankles and she sighed. Finally, after what seemed like an eternity, they slipped off of her feet and were tossed aimlessly onto the floor.

Ichigo's gaze followed the pants as they fell to the ground and he suddenly stiffened above her. Rukia's massaging hands stilled on his sinewy arms. She turned her fuzzy eyes up to him and breathed hard as he continued to maintain his unyielding state.

"Ichigo," she gasped, "What's the—"

She was not able to finish her question before his lips cut hers off. Pushing into her, taking her, tasting her, and ravaging her until everything in her mind was erased save for him. His right hand cupped her cheeks and his tongue pried into her soft mouth. She moaned when his left hand smoothed down her front and cupped her tender and aching breast. His thumb pressed against her hardening nipples while his other fingers traced the roundness of her soft mounds.

He was acting so differently from the way he usually made love to her. His passion was the same but his manner… he was just being so soft… so gentle… but still so _desperate_ that it made her want him that much more.

When the need for air became too great, they broke apart, Ichigo's face hovering above hers. Rukia's small pink tongue came out and licked her lips while Ichigo's eyes followed the movement.

Finally, her liquid sapphire eyes connected with his and she gasped at what she saw.

One of his hands went to the back of her head and gripped her raven locks tightly. He stared straight at her and tried to still his breathing simultaneously. After only a moment she saw his eyes flicker to the edges of the room. It was only then that she realized he was looking at the boxes that littered the rather empty space. His gaze returned to hers and he kissed her once again, this time gently.

"You're not leaving me." He whispered, his lips gently moving over hers as he formed the words. His breath teased her and she arched her back, pressing more of her body urgently against his. He hissed at the contact and molded his lips onto hers, desperately prying open her mouth and tasting her. His body lowered and she frantically rubbed her any part of her against any part of him. She could feel his hunger against her thigh. The bulge in his pants was growing with every passing second and Rukia nearly wept at the sensation. It felt so good to know this part of him again. To feel his desire renewed was amazing.

But the difference in his movements astounded her. He was being so tender in his movements. It was as if he wanted her to know how much he loved her. He was trying to restrain himself in his ministrations. Maybe he thought she would break if he was too rough. She knew that his desire had not tapered over their time apart. If anything, she knew that it had magnified. But still… he was being so careful. She didn't know whether to be incensed or infatuated by this.

But… but what he had said…

_You're not leaving me._

_Me._

Desperation flared anew in the pit of her stomach and Rukia gasped into his mouth. She felt like she was swimming in lava. Her entire body was so hot. It was burning everywhere it touched Ichigo. Not one part was left unconsumed by the embers.

Her hands reached under his tee shirt and pulled it over his head. His bright hair was snuffed for a moment as she pulled it over him. His bare skin was gleaming in the noon sunlight. Quickly, he brought his hands under her shoulders, supporting his weight on his forearm, and slid his glistening flesh against hers. Her stomach muscles tightened at the action and she moaned. Ragged gasping was echoed above her and she frantically wove a hand into her hair.

"Ichigo," she choked, "_Please…_"

Her hands were clawing at his pants. She needed to rid him of them. She needed to feel him. She had been so long without him; so long without his warmth or his touch or him inside of her. Half of her knew that she could barely remember what it was like for him to be inside of her… filling her… completing her.

His fingers dug into the fabric of her bra and he easily ripped the flimsy material apart. Before she could help him to remove it completely his mouth was on one of her breasts. His insistent tongue swirled around her nipple while his teeth tugged on the distended bud. Her entire body arched into his as one of her hands wound itself desperately into his flaming hair. She groaned and gasped, writhing at the exquisiteness of it all. Hazily, she reached up and covered her neglected breast with her other hand, imagining that her fingers were his tongue and that her palm was his lips.

No sooner did she bring her hand to her own breast did Ichigo growl against her. His mouth was ravenous as he kissed a path of flamed down her chest. He nestled his face in the small cavern between her breasts and inhaled deeply. She shuddered and brought her second hand up and massaged her newly abandoned breast.

"Ichigo," she moaned as his tongue dipped inside of her bellybutton. She writhed beautifully and panted even harder when his fingers pressed against her sweet sex through her soaking underwear.

"I… _oh_… Ichigo!" He dug his demanding fingers into her worn underwear and ripped them away. A part of her believed that if Ichigo had his way he'd never see those panties again.

The moment his tongue ran against her folds and Rukia's head was thrown back against the pillows… she knew this was real. Ichigo was here. Ichigo was with her. And oh _God…_ he was making love to her like he never had before.

The tears began to flow from her eyes again as his lips latched onto her clit and began to suck. She couldn't tell if her tears were from pleasure or from the emotional intensity of it all… but right now she couldn't care less. His tongue tasted every inch of her that he could and she undulated and panted underneath of him—desperate for more. Her hands left her breasts and she shoved them into his hair. With every expert lick and lap her back seemed to arch and her tightened that much more around him. After a minute she could swear she felt Ichigo chuckling into her. He eventually pried her tense legs wide apart and gently slid two fingers into her waiting warmth.

Rukia saw white. Half of her brain maintained the notion that she was dead while the other half was perfectly convinced that she was drowning in a river of frantic and mind-numbing pleasure. Hell, maybe they were both right. All she knew what that Ichigo Kurosaki was using his mouth on her like he was a parched man stumbling upon a cool fountain in the middle of the desert.

And _oh_ was he _good_.

A few more tweaks with his tongue and his name exploded from her lips. Her entire body shook violently and her heart raced inside of her chest. He didn't release her though. His mouth was fastened to her and as tightly as possible. Her fingers tore at his beautiful strands of hair as she came hard and long. Her whole body seemed to quake at the sensations he was eliciting. He groaned hungrily as he lapped up every bit of wetness that dripped from her tender sex.

Rukia's mind fuzzed over as she lay limply on the bed. Her heart was pounding so hard inside of her chest she wasn't sure if she would survive what was yet to come. Wetness fell from her eyes and from between her legs as Ichigo kissed his way back up her body.

"Oh I missed you," he whispered, his hands fumbling with the zipper of his pants. He gasped painfully as he pulled them over his erection. Rukia lifted her legs and helped him shuck away the annoying contraption. After a moments struggle they were off and he was lying completely on top of her. He buried his face in her neck and she whimpered softly, her hands encircling his back.

"I love you," she whispered, hot tears still streaming down her cheeks. She felt Ichigo move between her legs and she moaned as his steely heat slid over her slick folds. Her arms wound themselves around his neck and she buried her fingers into his hair once more. His entire body shuddered as he reached down and grasped the tip of his erection, rubbing himself slowly against her.

"Please," she gasped, dropping her knees nearly all the way onto the bed. She was spread for him. She was ready. "Oh Ichigo _please_. It's been so _long_…"

"I love you Rukia," he gasped into her neck. His mouth opened and he bit down on her shoulder as his thick length slid into her.

_Complete._

Inch by inch he came into her. Her warmth was gripping him and pulling him until he was helpless against its alluring tug. Gasps and moans were wretched from his throat as he pushed himself all the way inside of her. Rukia's walls were hot and ready and rippling; they massaged him, held him, and brought him to such ecstasy that he never, ever, wanted to leave.

"_Rukia!_" He gasped, his throat constricting from the pure pleasure of it all.

Her body lifted up to mold every surface of him onto herself. Her heart was beating so quickly she thought it would burst. Her hot breath panted into his ear while her second hand reached down and squeezed his clenching buttocks.

"J—Just stay," she gasped, her eyes blurry from the intense pleasure. She threw her head back and shuddered into the mattress at his enormous length. He must have gotten even larger from the time they had last been together. The immensity of him… it was fantastic. "Ju-just stay for a minute… _oh_, please just for a minute." She pleaded, not even caring that she was pleading with him.

He nodded once and fought to keep his body as still as possible. His entire body was shaking with the need to reach completion. But Rukia wanted a moment… just a moment to relish this wondrous feeling. The sweating skin of their stomachs undulated as breathing became harder and harder with each passing moment. Her shoulders shook and her fingernails bit into the skin of his back.

"Ichigo," she groaned, finally throwing her head back and opening her mouth wide. "Now… I need you _now!_"

"_Yes,_" he gasped. Slowly, Ichigo pulled out of her, making sure to swivel his hips just so she could feel every inch he had to offer her. It felt like decades passed until he was able to press just the head of his shaft against her. Yet with one groan and one powerful stroke he was inside of her again, building a rhythm that left him panting; pushing into her, filling her, and completing her.

A sharp cry echoed around Rukia's room as his enormity slammed into her. Ichigo grunted and wheezed in ecstasy as she tightened squeezed around him, using her arms her legs and her sex. His mouth sought hers crazily and he kissed her senseless as he repeated his torturously timed thrusts.

His tongue plundered her gentle mouth just as his length ravaged her aching center. Nothing was left safe from his masterful assault of lips, teeth, and tongue. His hands wound under her head and gripped her hair, pulling back her head and leaving more of her open to him. His body slammed into hers with such ferocity that her nails began to wreck havoc on his back. Once, when he began to slow down—to try and hold his orgasm off so she could reach her end first—her hand immediately clasped his ass and tugged him forward. He knew that she was as desperate as he. She needed him to release inside of her.

"Rukia," he gasped; her name the only one falling from his lips. There was no thought in his head apart from her. Only she existed; only her, only this moment, only now.

She called his name as her body contracted. Her back arched off of the bed and her legs clamped around his sides. She felt the spasms racking her body and opened her mouth to let out a hoarse scream.

Ichigo was sure that he had died. The feeling of her weeping sex gripping him like this was almost unbearable. His entire form was shaking as he tried to hold off his climax—just for a few more moments. He just wanted to feel Rukia's orgasm come to an end. He wanted… he wanted…

Sweat rolled down her face and she groaned helplessly into his shoulder. She felt spent and exhausted as Ichigo continued to push his hips forward and drive even deeper inside of her. Lines of curses fell from his lips and before she could even think about it, her mouth was on his. This time, her tongue was the one probing him. A mangled groan escaped his throat as her teeth nipped on his tongue and tugged at his lips.

His strokes became even more frantic—like they did when he was ready to come. Rukia lifted her leg and wrapped her calf around his, clinging to him even more, desperate to ride out his pleasure as though it was her own.

Yet just when she thought she couldn't take anymore, the tingling sensations of a climax ricocheted through her body once again. She gasped and dug her nails deeply into his skin and hoarsely shrieked as her center squeezed once again.

"_Shit!_" She cried, taking her hand and digging it deeply into Ichigo's hair. She wrenched her mouth against his and screamed as a climax more powerful than the last slammed through her.

Ichigo crashed into her gripping intensity before his own orgasm hit. Wave after wave of heat spilled into her, filled her, and completed her. Rukia's body rocked against his again and again as he trembled above her, erratically thrusting until there was no more of himself left to give.

With one final roar, Ichigo collapsed. He was shaking and panting and sweating so badly that it didn't even register that he might be crushing her. But Rukia didn't say a word, her arms wound around his waist and her face buried itself into his shoulder, clinging to him desperately.

_Please don't let this be a dream._

His heart was pounding against hers and she shuddered at the feeling. Each beat seemed to mirror one in her own chest. It was almost musical.

"I love you," Ichigo whispered, finally finding the strength and the will to pull himself off of her wonderfully supple body.

Rukia's hands gripped the air before his strong hands came to rest on her elbows. He tugged her forward enveloped him against her, pressing a kiss into her hair. She sighed when his sweating body rubbed against hers.

Her form was draped over his and she clung to him as tightly as she could. Her breathing was heavy and uneven but, then again, so was his. Almost as soon as her heart had calmed down, Ichigo rolled onto his side and grasped her even tighter to his body. Her head immediately tucked itself into his neck and his arms encircled her waist. One of his hands came up and tightly gripped her hair. She shivered and pressed herself as closely to him as possible.

He swallowed and she kissed his quivering Adams apple. "How long were you waiting?" She asked, her voice was a hoarse whisper but she felt no need to remedy it.

A low chuckle resonated in his chest and Rukia felt every inch of it. She shuddered happily and breathed in deeply. "Since about four thirty this morning."

Rukia didn't even want to know what time it was now. Although if she'd have to guess she'd say it must have been past two o'clock already.

"I'm sorry," she whispered.

"No," he murmured, rubbing his hands down the smooth skin of her back. She felt his fingers linger on the pronounced bones of her backside and she realized that she must have been eating less than she'd thought. He sighed heavily and continued to stroke the small curves of her body. "I would have waited all night if I had to. I was just afraid that… that you'd read the article and still not come."

Rukia bit her bottom lip and curled herself even tighter against Ichigo, guilt dripping its way into the pit of her stomach the way a leaking faucet eventually fills a sink. She drew in a shuddering breath and felt her body begin to shrink in on itself.

"Don't," Ichigo said, his voice clear and precise in the hazy afterglow. She jerked softly in the bed when she felt his fingers on her chin. Slowly, he lifted her face to his. His mouth was curved into a small smirk and his eyes were the warmest shade of amber she had ever seen before. Her jaw was clenched and he lightly rubbed his thumb over the tense line.

He pressed a kiss to her tender lips and drew back softly. "I want you to listen very carefully, Rukia Kuchiki," he proceeded to kiss her nose and she felt her tense body slowly melting in his arms. "I do not blame you for anything that happened." She bent her head and accepted the delicate kiss he pressed to her forehead. "It was Aizen and only Aizen. You were in no way responsible for anything that happened."

"But Ichigo I need to—"

"No." Was his flat answer.

"But I—"

"No."

"Ichi—"

"No."

She sighed exasperatedly and shoved him playfully in the shoulder. The action felt so familiar yet so foreign; it sent shivers down her spine and small spasms of laughter into her stomach.

"Idiot," she muttered, reaching her hand up and gripping his chin between her thumb and forefinger. She pushed her lips against his and pulled him down for another kiss. She groaned and he instantly teased his tongue into her mouth. He caressed her lips while his hands caressed her back. She could feel her eyelids becoming heavier and heavier as their kiss went on and on. She sighed and tried to fight the drowsiness that was now pressing against her like a heavy blanket. But the rhythmic stroking of his hand and his tongue were just too much for her.

She broke the kiss apart and tried to regain in some of her stolen breath. Only afterwards did she burrow her face into his chest, tucking her arms in as well. Ichigo chuckled lightly and pulled her in tight.

"Sleep," he whispered, his gentle breath brushing against her hair. She felt a yawn punctuate his breathing and smiled softly, "I assume that you've not been sleeping much since… that day, right?"

She simply nodded her head and ran her lips over his sternum. "You too?"

He enclosed her safely in the cocoon of his arms and nodded, "Hardly a wink."

Half of her wanted to say something like 'good' but she knew that noting could come of it. Ichigo was here. He was with her. She was wrapped inside of him. That was all that mattered.

She sighed and let her fingers roam over his chest, feeling the rhythmic motion of his calm breathing and finding it mirrored in her own. She took a quick look upwards and saw that he was staring sleepily down at her, a contented smile ripe on his features. She felt a blush spread over her cheeks and fought to keep it down. He simply chuckled and started stroking her hair. Sleep weighed down on her eyes and she closed them.

Yet after a few more moments of drowsy indecision Rukia knew that she still wouldn't be able to sleep peacefully. Not until…

_He had told me that it wasn't my fault. He had said that it was just Aizen and that I had nothing to do with it._

Her bottom lip cinched its way between her teeth and she grimaced. She knew, deep down, that he was wrong. But that was Ichigo—always trying to burden himself with the worries of others. He was trying to protect her from herself and the truth she had almost run away from.

She closed her eyes and thought back. His frantic voice echoed inside of her head like a loudspeaker.

"_Rukia! What's wrong? Why are you…? What happened…? Rukia what the hell is going on? Did someone hurt you? What happened? Tell me. Rukia… calm down. I'm only trying to help. Tell me what's happened, tell me what's wrong! God damn it Rukia! I can't help you if I don't know what's wrong! Tell me what's wrong! Rukia… I don't know what… Rukia… please, I don't understand. Tell me what—"  
_

Her body shook but she tried to hide it as the memories came flooding back to her. How could she have ignored it? How could she not have seen? All of those pleas? All of those questions? How could she just ignore the way his face had looked?

She had been so blinded by her own stupidity that she hadn't even bothered to think that maybe he _hadn't_ had anything to do with her getting fired or with crushing her heart. She had been so damn wrapped up in all of her own misery that she had forced this entire ordeal onto him as well. How could she have done that… not only to him, but to herself as well?

Her eyes squeezed shut as she fought off another wave of hot, sticky, tears. "I'm sorry."

Above her, Ichigo groaned. His voice was thick from sleep as he muttered, "Shut up midget. You have nothing to be sorry for."

"If I had listened to you," she continued, very aware that his thumb had ceased its circular motion on her back, "I could have saved us all so much pain." Her voice was crackling near the end but she cleared it. The familiar, hot, sensation of tears was rising in her eyes even heavier now. She didn't want Ichigo to see them though. She had spent far too much time crying _over_ him to actually want to do it in _front_ of him.

"But you didn't," Ichigo said quietly and Rukia's stomach promptly twisted.

His hand began to stroke again and she fought back a small sob-like sigh. "And you know," he continued, "I'm actually kind of glad."

_Huh?_

Rukia frowned and quickly tried to sit up in the bed but Ichigo's arms were firmly wound around her waist—not allowing her to move so much as an inch. She squeaked wetly when she was tugged backwards and into his solid mass of flesh. So instead of actually getting up she wiggled until her face was level with his.

"You might want to stop doing that," he said, his voice half teasing and half serious.

Rukia narrowed her eyes and raised her hand to brush away a stray strand of his hair. He leaned into her fingers and she nearly swooned at the slight motion. Forcing herself to think clear thoughts, she cupped his cheek and brushed her thumb across the defined bone.

"What do you mean?" She demanded softly, watching his gaze melt into hers. "Why… why were you glad that I—that I…"

"Went completely insane and cut yourself off from me completely?" He added in helpfully.

"Thank you," she muttered dryly.

He smirked and tugged her down until her head was resting directly over his heart. The steady thudding was like catharsis to her. She calmed instantly and felt her own heart start beating tranquilly.

"I'm not saying that being away from you was good," he told her, his fingers now tracing random patterns on her arms, "_That_ was awful but… I think that if you had just acted coolly about the whole situation I would have thought that you didn't care enough about me to get angry."

Rukia opened her mouth to speak but didn't get a chance to say anything. Ichigo cut her off by tugging her even closer to him. "But you weren't emotionless… you got angry, you were hurt, and you tried to get away from me—which, by the way, we _will_ talk about later—so I could only guess that, because of the way you acted, you cared about me _that_ much."

Rukia paused and shook her head, "You have some seriously twisted logic."

"Oh please," he sighed, squirming a blanket up with his foot and pulling it over them. "You know I'm right."

"Please," Rukia muttered, settling back down comfortably. "Like I'd ever admit it."

"Yeah," he said, "But don't you dare keep thinking about it. And I mean it Rukia. Honestly, if I had been in your position I think I would have done the same thing."

Rukia scoffed, "Like you'd start crying…"

He cocked his head to the side and shrugged, "If it were you…"

Her lips curled into a smile and she sighed softly. Gently, she pressed a kiss to his chest and murmured, "I love you Ichigo."

She couldn't see him but if she had to bet she'd have to say that he was smiling too. At least, it sounded like he was smiling as he said the five words she had been waiting so long to hear:

"I love you too, Rukia."

*~*~*

When Rukia awoke the moon was shining outside of her bedroom window. Her groggy eyes peeled themselves open and she groaned as the blankets slid over her naked body.

She blinked once and looked down.

_Naked?_

Memories of that afternoon flooded into her brain. The newspaper article, Ichigo waiting outside, them coming inside, him making love to her, telling her not to dwell on what happened, and him telling her that he loved her.

_Over and over and over again…_

She shuddered as she remembered. Everything had been so… so… _perfect_. A smile crept onto her face and she pushed the sheets down to her waist. In one small move, she twisted around. She was fully anticipating waking Ichigo up just so she could show him how much she missed him. But as the top half of her body reached around and her arm extended outward, she saw that the second half of her bed was empty.

She never thought her stomach could disappear so fast.

A hand immediately went to her forehead and she swallowed hard. Her eyes closed on their own volition and she shuddered. "Please tell me this wasn't a dream. _Please_ tell me this wasn't a dream."

Her second hand was about to join the first when she heard a strange clacking sound coming from her kitchen.

Her brows furrowed and a small part of her evaporated stomach peeked out from where ever it was hiding. Quickly, she hopped out of her bed—maneuvered around the boxes littering her room—and grabbed a fresh pair of underwear and an old nightshirt she had kept lying around. She slipped them on, all the while listening for the sounds coming from her apartment's kitchen. Straightening, she narrowed her eyes, sniffed the air and… and… wait…

Was that _food_?

Her feet were quiet as she stepped out of her bedroom and into the hallway. It was softly lit and she wandered into it freely. After a moment, she appeared in the doorway to her kitchen and…

… Promptly allowed her jaw to drop.

Ichigo Kurosaki—clad only in a pair of jeans—was standing in her kitchen, a frying pan in one hand and a spatula in the other. As she stood, she watched him carefully tilt a golden-brown pancake out of the pan and onto a waiting plate nearby.

Pancakes, however, were not the only things that were set out. Rukia could see an entire pizza sitting on her dining room table—from the only place that delivered past midnight, she noted with a small smirk—a tossed salad, several pieces of cut up fruit, drinks of various alcoholic variety, three-day-old Chinese food that had been stuffed into the fridge somewhere, and even a plate of peanut butter and jelly sandwiches. Basically, every single article of food that she had been storing in her house up until the move—and more—was sitting on the smugly shining table.

Her eyes began to bug as she witnessed him beginning to pour another circle of pancake batter onto the frying pan. It sizzled happily and Ichigo began humming a small tune as he tossed the batter around.

She coughed lightly and he instantly swung around, splattering warm pancake batter onto her floor. One drop hit her big toe and she fought back a giggle. He stood silently in the kitchen—his face looked oddly dumbstruck as she crossed her arms and leaned against the doorframe.

"What's with the dumb look Ichigo?" She demanded, trying her best not to melt at the sight of him all shirtless and domesticated. Her eyes traveled over his body twice before going towards the table; it was only then that she frowned, "And while I do think that you being all domestic is _fantastically_ sexy, I truly hope that you were not expecting me to eat _all_ of that."

It took him a minute to recover before that familiar smirk appeared on his face. His eyes glanced down at her batter splattered foot and his smirk turned into a grin. His gaze returned to her and she smiled.

"I certainly do," he told her, coming forward—spatula still in hand—and grabbing the back of her head. She tilted it immediately and she surged upwards on her toes. His tongue ravaged her instantly and she met him with a fervor she had nearly forgotten she had. Groaning, her arms came up to wrap around his neck and one of his arms went around her torso. She pressed her body completely against his and hungrily drew a leg up to hook around his waist.

She didn't know how long they kissed before a heavy burning smell polluted the air the two of them were desperately drawing in.

Ichigo jerked away from her and frowned, "Shit," he muttered breathlessly. His head was turned in the direction of the now-charred pancake. Rukia looked over at the blackened food and instantly felt a smile curl on her lips. A small giggle escaped her throat and he quickly looked back down.

With a grin plastered on his face, Ichigo tightened his arm around her waist, hoisted her up, and began walking back to the stove.

"Ichigo!" She gasped, something quiet close to a laugh releasing itself from her throat. She was hanging sideways from his strong arm and practically dangling her feet against the cool floor. She giggled as she watched Ichigo flip off all of the switches to the stove and remove the frying pan from the red burner. With the plate of pancakes in one hand, he swung around—with Rukia still under his arm—and strode towards the table.

She was laughing freely now. He tossed the plate on the wooden surface and then flipped Rukia up as if she weighed no more than a toy doll. She knew he'd never drop her though. She trusted him. His arms wound around her so she was being carried bridal style to the open chair at her table. Ichigo plopped down first and she settled freely into his lap.

Rukia smiled up at him and pressed a small kiss to his chin, "How much sleep did you get?" She asked him, feeling his hands secure themselves on her bottom.

"Only an hour or two," he murmured, his lips searching for her eyelids and successfully finding them.

"So little?" She sighed, snuggling in closer to him.

"Your phone woke me up," he murmured, kissing her nose softly, "And by the way, I unblocked my number."

"I was going to do that," she sighed exasperatedly, "You didn't… wait… who called?"

"Well, the first was Momo," he told her, rubbing his hands along the curves of her supple body.

Rukia's eyes widened. "Momo called?" She gasped and tightened her hold on Ichigo's neck. "Did… did Toshiro read the paper? Did he—?"

Ichigo's warm grin told her everything she needed to know. Relief washed over Rukia's entire body and her face broke into a smile of her own. "He made up with her?"

Ichigo nodded, "More like he ambushed her in the department store where she was shopping. She told me that he rushed towards her, fell to his knees, and begged her to take him back."

Rukia's eyebrows rose, "Beg? _Toshiro?_"

He nodded, "She even testified that he squeezed out a few tears."

Her jaw dropped slightly.

Ichigo nodded. "So they went back to his apartment and made up… many, many, times apparently. She just wanted to tell you. When I answered the phone, however, she nearly started crying. She said she'd talk to you later and to also tell you that their wedding is back on."

Rukia's mouth was being tugged into two different directions—one being a huge grin and the other being a small pout. Quickly taking notice, Ichigo frowned, "What is it?"

Rukia shrugged lightly, the gentle fabric of her nightgown sliding over her soft skin. "_We've_ only made up once," she sighed, her fingertip now beginning to swirl around one of his brown nipples.

Ichigo shuddered gently and caught her hand, bringing it to his lips and kissing every individual tip. "We'll fix that…"

Rukia grinned and started to lean her mouth down towards his.

"… But only after you've eaten every single thing I've put out on this table."

She narrowed her eyes at him—inside she was marveling at how fast they had returned to their old routine of quick banter and responses—and said, "If I eat all of this I will not be able to move and you know that I actually participate when we have sex."

He sighed and began to rub her leg up and down, his fingers dipping near her knee and then up again. Rukia shuddered and shifted even closer to him. Her eyes began to close softly and she leaned towards him. She knew that he wanted her to eat but the look in his eyes was telling her that he wanted her just as much as she wanted him.

Her lips almost brushed his when she stopped.

"Wait…" she pulled back and frowned, Ichigo groaned audibly and dropped his bright head onto her collar.

"What?" He moaned, his hand now riding up her underwear and caressing the skin of her ass.

"You said that Momo was my first call," she said, wiggling even closer to him. She grinned when she felt his erection brush her leg through his pants. She could now see why he was in such pain. "Who was the second caller?"

Ichigo shrugged and looked away innocently while his hand still mapped the territory underneath of her new un-ripped underwear. He coughed lightly and muttered, "Some hyperactive chick named Beverly. She wanted to confirm the final move in date with you."

Rukia stilled and her left eyebrow rose immediately. She lifted her eyes to his and found that he was staring obstinately at the food on the table. Frowning, she placed her hands on his cheeks and twisted his face to hers. His gaze smoldered into hers and she promptly told herself not to melt inside. So she raised her other eyebrow and said, "What did you say to her, pray tell?"

"To go screw herself," Ichigo muttered in a voice so low she almost didn't catch the phrasing. She narrowed her eyes at him and he rolled his own. "I just told her you weren't moving."

Her hands tightened around his neck and she scooted forward even more. Inside, she could feel her heart pounding erratically against her rib cage. "Oh you did… did you?"

"I did," he said, nodding his head matter-of-factly.

"Did you give her a reason?" She demanded gently, brushing her lips with his and retreating before he could capture her lips completely. Inside, she could hear her heart singing. After all, Ichigo had told her while they were making love that she couldn't leave him. After that plea, she had absolutely no intention of leaving either him or Karakura. But to hear that he had already dealt with that caffeine-worshipper… Rukia's heart was nearly bursting with happiness.

"I did," he repeated, bending his head and running his lips over her neck. Her pulse quickened at the feeling and she knew that Ichigo could tell. He nipped at the throbbing flesh with his teeth and then his soothed his tongue over the mark.

"What did you tell her?" She gasped, moving even closer to him. Her breasts brushed against his naked chest. She groaned at the feeling—seeing as how her shirt was so thin it barely existed—and her nipples stiffened immediately.

"I told her," Ichigo murmured into her neck, his arms wrapping themselves tightly around her lithe body, "That you and your fiancé had decided to stay in Karakura."

She stilled instantly.

_Fiancé._

She drew back slowly. His hands were clasped around her entire body. His heart was beating quickly. Her skin tingled everywhere they touched. She pulled back until her eyes were staring into his. Those beautiful amber eyes were so… so…

_Confident._

Her mouth blossomed into a smile and she noticed two or three miniscule lines disappearing from around his eyes. "You want me to marry you?" She whispered, her chest tightening to the point of possible explosion.

He didn't even pause. "Yes, I do."

Rukia's lips curled into a smile and she surged forward, colliding her mouth with his. His right hand moved to her left shoulder and slid down her entire arm until he was gripping each of her fingers with his. His calloused digits played with hers before focusing their attention on one in particular. Only then did she feel the band of warm metal wrapped around her third finger. She gasped and wretched her lips from his. She tugged her hand from his in one smooth movement and drew the specific finger up to her amazed face.

A band of pure gold lay on top of her ring finger. She had never seen anything look so perfect on her skin before. The deep, yellow, gold was encrusted with beautifully cut diamonds. Yet in the center of the diamonds was a large, violet, sapphire gem. It caught the dim lights of the kitchen and sparkled beautifully as she moved.

Ichigo's lips were near her ear as he whispered, "It matches your eyes."

She gasped and ripped her eyes from the stunning ring, only to bring them back to his. She smiled when she realized his eyes were just as beautiful—if not more—as the ring on her finger. His smirking mouth was back, directly parallel to hers.

"So…" he murmured, teasing her lips with his, "What do you say?"

Rukia grinned and leaned forward, wrapping her limbs around him completely. "Do you even have to ask?"

**(A/N: This chapter was longer than the others but I have a feeling that no one has a problem with it. :) Hey, at least I didn't cut in it half like I did with my other story.**

**Oh and sorry if the lemon was a bit fluffy for some people's tastes. But I just can't help writing a happy fluffy ending. SQUEE!!!**

**Also wanted to know about what people think about the info getting to Rukia through a news article. Just curious.**

**The next chapter is the epilogue. Sniffle… sniffle…**

**PLEASE DON'T FORGET TO REVIEW!!!**

**P.S.: Thanks to Jeni G for showing me that I used Momo's name in the article. I guess I missed that one! It's fixed now though! Thanks)**


	45. Epilogue

**Disclaimer: I do not own Bleach or any Bleach affiliates.**

_**Odalisque**_

**Epilogue**

**Three Months Later**

Rukia never thought she'd be in such a place. Her heart felt like it was going to explode if Ichigo didn't stop soon. Above her, sweat dripped down his face, angling over his cheekbones and sliding down his taunt neck. Trembling violently, she raised her hands and clasped them tightly around his straining column—careful not to squeeze too tightly. Her hips rolled under his and his chest scraped across hers. Her tenderized nipples tightened even more with each jerking pass and she desperately tugged his mouth down onto hers, needing to taste him as she came.

His forearms wiggled under her shoulders and his nails dug into the sheets. Their lips collided and her tongue instantly wisped his mouth apart. He groaned deeply in his throat and fought to slow the pace of his urgent hips. Rukia moaned at the deliberate progress and sent muffled curses into his mouth. She was so _close_ and the bastard just had to… just had to…

One of her hands left his salty neck and traveled over the planes of his body. The solid, muscled curves were slick with sweat and she glided down them easily. As quickly as she could, she curled her fingers into claws and dug them into the tender flesh of his backside. With one violent tug she jerked him forward and buried his cock even deeper inside of her. So deep, in fact, that she could feel him against the trembling, weeping, wall of her cervix.

His eyes shot open. His mouth ripped from hers. A roar unlike any she had ever heard before was pushed through his throat. His body jerked and spasmed as he came violently within her. He covered her, skin to skin, in a tight grip as he thrust into her mindlessly, needing to fulfill his animalistic desire to find release.

While Ichigo shuddered and shook, Rukia clawed her nails even harder into him, pulling him as far into her as she could and holding him there. She wanted to come with his cock buried deep with her. Gasping, she threw her head back and let loose a hoarse yell. Her climax came crashing over her like a tsunami on an unsuspecting town. It left her feeling complete and dizzy and content and unstable all at the same time.

After a moment of breathless hovering, Ichigo fell limply to the side. She smiled through her exhaustion at the small motion; he always tried to hurl himself to one side or the other so he wouldn't crush her beneath him. Not a second later he automatically lifted his arms, wrapped them around her body, and tugged her towards him.

His panting breath echoed in her ear and she groaned happily. His hard and warm form melted against hers and she snuggled in even closer.

"Damn," he gasped, bringing a hand up and running it over his face. Rukia shifted in his arms and pressed warm, open-mouthed, kisses to his collarbone, her tongue taking in tiny drops of sweat along the way. "I knew our sex before was good before but… engagement sex is even _better_."

"Don't forget the dating sex," she said, grinning gently. One shoulder shrugged upwards and she chuckled, "It was only for a few days but it was good too."

"Yeah," Ichigo groaned, leaning over and flicking the tip of her nose with his tongue.

"Gross," she muttered, tilting her lips up instead and grabbing his.

His hand reached to the back of her head and he gently gripped the sweaty locks, pulling her even closer into him. Rukia's eyelids fluttered gently against her cheeks as his second hand came to rub the curve of her hip. Moaning softly, she gripped him tightly and swung one leg over both of his. With one, powerful, shove, Ichigo was on his back and Rukia was straddling his slim hips.

She wretched her lips from his and purposefully began to grind her hips into his—small, teasing circles that would get him just where she wanted him.

Ichigo's breath became faster and more spastic as his eyes witnessed her lips curling into a wicked smirk.

"Round two?" He gasped, his hands moving onto her hips and holding them tightly. She grinned when she realized he was trying to stop her from moving her hips like that. She knew what she was doing drove him crazy.

"I think," she whispered, placing her hands on each of his pectorals and tweaking his nipples gently, "That… round two…" she lowered her mouth and Ichigo's pants became more and more intense, "Would be…" her eyes roved his face—his chin, his mouth, his nose, his eyes…

The alarm clock one foot from his head.

With a sudden squeak, Rukia launched herself off of Ichigo and rolled as far away from him as was possible on the large bed. Almost like a little mole, she ripped the covers away from the mattress and dove as deeply under of them as she could. With one final flick, her entire, naked body was huddled underneath the down comforter, and curled into a secure and immovable ball.

Ichigo was still lying on his side of the bed—completely naked and semi-erect—before he realized that his fiancée was no longer on top of him and doing such wondrous things to his body. Even after that he still had to blink his eyes twice and wait another minute before he was able to realize where the hell she had gone.

"Rukia?" He said. He wasn't exactly sure of which tone he should use. Angry? Frustrated? Confused? He cocked his head to the side and wondered what, in fact, the proper tone to use when one's fiancée decided to play hide-and-go-seek in the middle of foreplay.

Instead of dwelling on it too long, he moved towards the head of the bed and began tugging at the comforter. "Rukia, what the fuck are you—"

"Stop it right there Ichigo Kurosaki!"

His hands froze on the cover and he frowned. Her voice had almost sounded _crass_. Wrinkling his nose, he began to pull at the covers once again. However, instead of immediately uncovering his bride-to-be, she had the audacity to wiggle even further away from him.

Grunting in frustration, he began to pull harder, until one ankle was uncovered. "Rukia! What's gotten into you?" His hands grasped the tiny ankle before she could jerk it away. "Please don't tell me you've suddenly decided to become a prude." He tugged hard but, apparently, she was digging her nails into the base end of the mattress.

"Let go Ichigo!" She demanded, wriggling her ankle like a fish just to get out of his grasp.

"Rukia! What the—"

Suddenly, her foot lashed out and caught him in the side. He yelped in pain and fell backwards. Anger clouded his forehead and he snarled ruthlessly. Furiously, he rubbed his aching side and declared: "I will drag you out of there this second if you do not—"

"Look at the time dumbass!" She yelled, scuttling further inside of the blankets.

Frowning even more—if that was even possible—Ichigo looked over at the clock that lay beside their bed. The glowing digital light blinked at him smugly, as if _they_ knew why Rukia was now acting like some kind of demented turtle.

"So what?" He demanded. "It's only eleven fifty seven. We have at least another round to go before we actually need to sleep and—"

"Idiot!" She shouted, her head popping up inside of the comforter and moving around slightly. "We're getting married tomorrow! Everyone knows the groom's not allowed to see the bride on their wedding day! Those are the rules! We're already stretching them enough as it is!"

His jaw dropped.

"Are you fucking _serious_?"

"Yes! She hugged, burying even furhter into the base of the bed. "Well... I think it might have been the day _before _the wedding but still..." she paused for a moment before clearing her throat and sighing. "Now that we have that cleared up... go sleep on the couch.

Ichigo shook his head and let his hand hang uselessly on her tiny ankle. "I…I… are you—wha—?"

"Go!" Rukia said, jerking her ankle out of her fiancé's large hand. "Momo's coming over tomorrow to take me to the church and all. She's bringing Toshiro too so they can be sure to separate us."

Ichigo sent an incredulous look up towards the ceiling and slapped a hand to his face. "I—I can't believe that you want me to… that you want me to…"

"I don't _want_ you to do anything," Rukia stated crisply, "I'm _telling _you to go to the couch and sleep. Our relationship started out as unorthodox as possible mister and I want to finish it with some sense of normalcy."

"Normalcy? _Normalcy_?" He sputtered, "Midget, look at us! Right now it looks like we're playing some kind of kinky hide-the-vagina sex game!"

"You are so crude!" Rukia shouted, burrowing underneath the covers even more. She huffed angrily and muttered, "And I _was_ going to let you kiss me for the minute or two we had left but _no_, I bet it's already past midnight."

Ichigo turned his head to the clock and groaned. Three minutes _past_ midnight to be precise.

"Rukia," he groaned, "Come _on._" He ground his teeth together and sighed. He was running out of things to say to convince her to come out from under there. After all, it wasn't like he could say '_Tomorrow's just another day'_ because… it _wasn't_.

Butterflies—yes, he was manly enough to admit it—appeared in his stomach at the very thought of it: a grand church, a softly playing band, several hundred faces all smiling at the petite beauty walking gracefully down the aisle. Tomorrow he was getting married.

_Married._

Sighing with a mixture of contentedness and frustration, Ichigo flopped off of his bed and began to search the room for a pair of discarded sleeping pants. God forbid Mr. and Mrs. Toshiro Hitsugaya come in tomorrow morning and find him on the couch, sleeping in the nude.

Slipping a pair of gray sweatpants over his hips, Ichigo glanced at the little squirming mass he could make out in the darkness of the room. Grinning, he moved over and sat down heavily beside her.

"I thought I told you to—"

"Shut up," Ichigo interrupted, patting his hands along the length of her body. Finally, he found what seemed to be her head and gently wiggled it around.

"What are you—?"

"Is this your head?" He demanded quickly, knowing her ire would increase when she was interrupted.

"Yes," she growled through the heavy mass of blankets. "Now what are you going to do?"

Chucking deep in his throat, Ichigo lowered his head and gently kissed the fabric that separated them. He knew Rukia probably couldn't feel it but oddly enough, he didn't care. It was more of a gesture than anything else.

He lifted his head fractionally and swore he heard her breathing increase slightly. Grinning, he let his mouth linger a bit on the fabric and muttered, "Couldn't very well go about kissing your ass, now could I?"

"G-Go away," Rukia stuttered. Ichigo grinned, fully aware that her will was slowly deteriorating. Although, since he was the gentleman he actually _was_ going to sleep on the couch tonight. If only so that Rukia could have the perfect wedding.

"Fine, fine, fine…" he sighed exaggeratedly, standing and stretching slowly. He tread softly into the hallway but paused once more to look at the mass of fluff-covered-flesh that rested on his bed. Shaking his head he muttering playfully, "I swear, the things I do for you midget…"

He heard Rukia scoff lightly, "When compared with taking down a multi-billion dollar head of a company and using journalistic means to embarrass yourself publicly, sleeping on the couch seems like a small thing."

"At least I still had a comforter on the bed," he pointed out. He tried to keep his voice hostile but couldn't help the small edge of happiness he felt creeping inside.

"Goodnight Ichigo," she called, her voice still muffled.

"Goodnight Rukia," he grunted, the anger that he felt at the beginning of their conversation beginning to creep back into his mind. He closed the door to the bedroom—as if to signify that he was indeed, leaving—and made his way into the living room.

She did have a point though with the whole taking down-of-the-moguls stuff. Come to think of it, Ichigo had probably done more for Rukia than any other man most likely ever did for the woman he loved. Outside of royalty that is. Not that he was complaining either. He'd gladly do the whole thing over again if it meant getting back into Rukia's good graces.

Ichigo allowed his feet to wander around the kitchen for a moment before stopping at the sink. He filled a glass of water and smiled smugly before drinking it.

He'd never forget the look on Sosuke Aizen's face when Renji and several members of the Karakura Police Force had come barging in on him. Ichigo had been with them, of course. Not to mention he had _accidentally_ let it slip that the best time to arrest the bastard might have also _accidentally_ happened to coincide with a major press release done concerning the takeover. He also might have _accidentally_ paid someone to up the range on the mike so it might have _accidentally_ picked up Renji saying: "Sosuke Aizen, you're being arrested under charges of fraud, money laundering, attempted murder, and rape. You have the right to remain silent, anything you say can and will be used against you in the court of law. You have the right to an attorney, if—by some diluted _miracle_—you can't actually afford one, the court will appoint one to you. Come with me."

The look on that bastard's face was what credit card companies would have called "priceless." Ichigo sighed happily in remembrance as he set his glass of water down gently on the counter. Of course, the best part about the entire arrest was the fact that Ichigo was standing directly in his line of sight. He had rigidly stood, with a victorious smirk on his face, watching as Sosuke Aizen was manhandled from his chair, cuffed, and pushed towards the exit.

On his way out—in the midst of thousands of camera flashes, shouted questions, and shoved quotation microphones—his head had whipped around the entire room, almost as if he were actually _searching_ for someone.

Ichigo knew that _he_ was that particular someone.

When their eyes locked, Ichigo saw something he hadn't quite expected to see in Aizen's blazing brown eyes. Along with the mix of horror, disgust, and disbelief and his sudden loss of power, Ichigo could have sworn that he had seen the tiniest might of _respect._ As if he was actually acknowledging the fact that Ichigo had beaten him, that he had figured it out and that he had actually gone through with it until the end.

While Renji had practically dragged him towards the exit, not once did that bastard's eyes leave Ichigo's. Ichigo even thought that Aizen might have been having some sort of breakdown. His eyes—still staring into his—slowly became wider and wider, his mouth became slacker and slacker, and… and… well, he looked like he was going _mad_. Ichigo shuddered at the thought. Aizen was crazy enough as it is; add in a healthy dose of psychosis and that was a recipe for even greater disaster.

Gin—who already looked as demented as demented could get—hadn't become as crazy-eyed as Aizen had though. If anything his smile had just gotten wider and wider and wider as two of Renji's associates led him away.

Ichigo let out a large sigh and fumbled his way towards the couch, grabbing a spare blanket along the way.

_At least it's over,_ he thought. _The trail will start soon and they'll sure as hell be convicted in the blink of a frigging eye. _He sighed and flopped down onto the couch, pulling the heavy quilt up towards his chest.

_The day before the most important day of my life and I have to be the one sleeping on the couch_, he thought begrudgingly, wiggling into the suave sofa Rukia had forced him to keep. He had liked his navy set better than her crème set but Rukia—being Rukia—had kicked him in the shins and forced him to agree.

Although, if he had to be painfully honest, he'd have to say that he enjoyed most of the stuff that Rukia had brought with her from her apartment. Some of the wall paintings, the decorative ceramic vases, and even some furniture sets did very nicely in his—_our_—apartment.

But it wasn't her stuff that he loved having here the most. It was _her_. It was just… knowing that he would wake up with her beside him every single day, seeing her rummaging through their drawers to find whatever she needed—especially when she was looking for fresh undergarments to replace the ones he had ripped off—giving her cooking lessons so they wouldn't have to call the fire department as often as they already did; all those little things just made his heart beat faster in his chest and made his breath flow quicker through his lungs.

_I am so whipped,_ he thought placidly—not even perturbed by the thought anymore. Ichigo shifted around a bit on the couch and a small smile came onto his face as he chuckled lightly._ But at least tomorrow I'll be legally recognized as whipped._

*~*~*

Rukia sat quietly in the small dressing room of the church annex. Outside, she could hear the milling feet of at least two hundred guests. The tornado of butterflies in her stomach became a hurricane as the thought of walking down that long, long, long aisle in front of those people surfaced in her mind.

Both she and Ichigo had originally wanted a small wedding, but Byakuya Kuchiki—being Byakuya Kuchiki—would have absolutely none of that. He had insisted that at least one hundred or so members of the Kuchiki family be invited. And those were only the most influential ones. So the invitations had been sent while she and Ichigo muttered and groaned over to the side. Secretly though, Rukia thought that he had wanted to rub the fact that his younger sister was finally getting married to someone of her own choosing into the Clan's brown-nosing faces.

Secretly, Rukia wanted to rub it in as well.

Her fingers toyed anxiously with the lace of her small bodice and her feet tapped mercilessly against the ground in her white heels. Hisana's glimmering pearl earrings hung from her small lobes while a matching strand of them wrapped around her neck. She glanced nervously at the clock and fought to keep the thudding in her heart down a bit. Five more minutes. Just five… only five and she'd be… she'd be…

Quickly, Rukia stood up, simply unwilling to sit still anymore. Her tiny feet began their hurried whirls as she moved back and forth and back and forth across the ancient preparation room. Every now and again, she would look up at the clock, her eyes nervously darting from one hand to the next in giddy anticipation. However, each time she glanced, the damn hands never seemed to go anywhere.

The small V of her waistline twisted as she turned. The intricate pearl beading of her bodice glittered in the sunlight streaming through the small window. The small pearls clinked against each other as she swirled, making delicate noises that tickled her ear. The beautiful, waterfall, French silk of her skirt flowed around her legs and swished gently as she moved. Her chest heaved and her fingers came up to twist in front of her heaving chest. The fingers on her right hand immediately moved to the third on her left. She found that after only a few days of having this beautiful ring it was already becoming a habit of hers to twist it around her finger.

The next two minutes consisted of her legs tirelessly carrying her from one side of the room to the next. All the while the butterflies in her stomach were slowly transforming into insect hellions.

_I'm getting married._ She thought, her mind racing wildly, _I'm getting married I'm getting married I'm getting married!_

She paused and sucked in a breath bigger than any she had taken today—and that was saying a lot.

_I'm getting married to _Ichigo.

An instant grin broke onto her face and she began to giggle helplessly.

Suddenly, the door behind her burst opened and Momo bustled inside, the deep burgundy of her dress sweeping harmlessly against the spotless floor. Rukia swirled around and fought to keep her grin from expanding even more. She didn't want to look like some sort of demented clown-bride.

"Rukia!" Momo gasped, her hands flying to her mouth—well, one hand at least, the other was clutching a bouquet of white and red roses—and she squealed happily. "You look so gorgeous! I mean, I knew that dress was for you the moment we saw it but _God_, with your makeup and your hair all done up! You look like a snow princess!"

Rukia twirled once for emphasis and then returned her gaze to Momo's. "You don't look too bad yourself," she said, "Especially in that color. See? I told you that particular red would look fantastic on you." She walked forward and extended her small pointer finger towards Momo's slightly distended stomach. Her friend gasped and flushed a red deep enough to match the color of her dress. "Not to mention it's doing a fairly good job at hiding—"

"Rukia!" She wretched Rukia's hands into hers and tugged her forward. Her head darted from side to side frantically to check if anyone else was listening. "You _know_ that no one knows about Shiro junior yet and you promised that you'd—"

Rukia raised an eyebrow. "Shiro _junior_?"

Momo simply shrugged, "I just think it's going to be a boy."

"But naming him after your own husband?" Rukia jostled. She shook her head and wiggled about a bit in her dress. "Never mind." She glanced over at the clock resting above the doorway and felt another enormous grin. "Three more minutes." She whispered, a small growl of frustration punctuating her sentence. "I swear to God that clock defective."

Momo's knowing grin and raised eyebrows were turned towards Rukia. Simultaneously, the two of them jiggled from one foot to the other and began squealing.

"Wait!" She gasped suddenly, "Where's Byakuya? Is he—?"

"I'm right here."

Rukia squeaked lightly and twisted towards the door.

There stood Byakuya Kuchiki, Rukia's older brother. He was dressed handsomely in a black tuxedo, pearl cufflinks that matched Rukia's jewelry, and a silk bowtie that probably cost as much as a small house. He was standing straight and tall and even had something akin to a _smile_ on his face. Or maybe it was just the way the sun was angling the shadows onto his face. He seemed… proud. Not proud in the sense of his own pride, but proud of _her_.

He cleared his throat and nodded his head once, "You look fine."

Knowing that 'fine' was probably the most she was ever going to get from him, Rukia smiled warmly and nodded. "Thank you, Brother."

He came forward and straightened his already impeccable tie. His eyes darted quickly to the mirror and then back to his sister. His eyes were hard but warm as he stared down at her.

"If you don't want to go through with this," he told her tonelessly—like always, "I can make him leave and we will never speak of this again."

To her side, Momo had to put a hand up to her mouth in an attempt to smother a fit of instantaneous giggles. Rukia had to fight not to dramatically roll her eyes.

"Thank you Brother," she said as calmly as she could. "But I have made my decision. I want to marry him." _I need to marry him._

Byakuya cleared his throat and nodded once. "Very well." The pause was lengthy and terse. "So be it."

"Thank you Brother," Rukia said softly, "And thank you for… for agreeing to this union."

Byakuya snorted softly and shook his head. "You would have married him with or without my permission." He sighed and walked back to stand in front of her. "But I am glad the boy had spine enough to ask me himself."

"Yes…" she sighed, fondly remembering the day where Ichigo barged into a board of directors meeting and demanded Byakuya's blessing to marry Rukia. Needless to say Byakuya hadn't been too enthused but after Rukia's rather dramatic—aka, threatening—'agree or we'll do it anyway' phone call it wasn't really in his power to refuse.

"Very well," he said before glancing at the clock and raising an eyebrow. "Are you ready?"

Rukia's grin widened and her heart fluttered rapidly in her chest. "I've been ready for six months."

An 'awww' came from Momo's mouth and she jumped from one foot from the other in quick, excited, succession. Rukia gave her one raised eyebrow and, with a quick nod, she grabbed her bouquet of red roses and exited the preparation room.

Outside, the bellowing tones of the massive organ echoed through the stone halls of the church.

Rukia felt like fainting from happiness.

Byakuya cleared his throat and held out his arm. Rukia grappled for it like she was a drowning woman searching for a life preserver.

The door to the preparation room was pushed open and the two of them slowly moved outside. Byakuya's efficient shoes squeaked on the old stone and Rukia's heels clicked. The church was old… very old… and in the center of Karakura too. The minute Byakuya had given his permission for Ichigo and Rukia to marry he called and reserved this church at the earliest possible date. Ichigo had thought it was annoying but Rukia knew the significance of this place.

_Byakuya married Hisana in this very church._

The gray stones seemed to vibrate with warmth as they took step after step, Rukia's hand inside the crook of Byakuya's elbow, walking towards a gate blinded with glowing lights.

The tones to 'Here Comes the Bride' began. Slowly, Rukia and Byakuya stepped out into the bright doorway.

The giant hallway was decorated on every surface with white and red roses—tastefully decorated by some royal florist Byakuya had employed—silk banners decorated the pews and beautifully garnished fabrics clung to the walls of the church. It looked like a scene from a majestic fairytale.

The church itself was filled to the brim. The bride's side of the large church was overflowing with at least a hundred members of the Kuchiki Family. Byakuya sent out over two hundred invitations knowing only some would show up. Well that _some _ended up being one hundred and forty three. She hadn't actually thought that many would come but come they did. Many of the members of her "family" were actually seated on the groom's side because they were so numerous.

In the front of the groom's side sat Isshin Kurosaki. He—along with Yuzu—was already bawling his eyes out over the fact that his son was actually getting married to someone he didn't deserve. Karin was sitting next to them with her arms, legs, and eyebrows crossed in annoyance. Rukia could plainly see the _let's just get this over with_ expression screwed onto her face.

Her eyes darted to those standing in the front of the room and she smiled softly at the sight of Momo Hitsugaya standing proudly near the altar. Rukia had decided against bridesmaids, instead only choosing Momo to be her matron of honor. Shifting her gaze to the other side, she gave a small nod to each of her fiancé's groomsmen. Ichigo had a few of his friends beside him as well as Uryu Ishida from the company acting as his best man.

This was indeed a fairytale.

But what made it truly perfect was the prince standing in the very center of the building.

Rukia's breath caught in her throat and she froze in her place. Her eyes fixed on him… on just _him_. Everyone else in the entire room disappeared but them.

His entire body was encased in a dark, midnight suit and a single white rose was pressing out of the suit pocket. A black bow was tied securely around his neck and his shining shoes gleamed in the dark. His messy orange hair was planted on top of his head like a flame on top of a candle. Best of all though, best of all was the way his amazed eyes stared directly into hers, how his slightly open jaw was just for her, and how she could practically hear his heartbeat from across the room.

The music continued and a sharp tug from Byakuya wretched her forward—so much so that she almost tripped on her own feet. The music began in earnest as the two of them began deliberately walking towards the front.

Every eye in the place was on her and Byakuya but Rukia could care less. Her eyes were locked on his. Every part of her was so attuned to him that she could swear she could see every twitch of his eyelashes. Rukia honestly felt like she was walking on clouds towards some kind of angel.

The minute Rukia raised her leg up to step onto the small podium—studiously ignoring the heavy sigh from Momo and more wailing tears from the Kurosaki broad—she felt like she was no longer controlling her own movements. It was something else… something magnetic, something fantastic, pulling her towards him.

The moment she was two steps away from him she saw his open-mouthed, wide-eyed, stare become shaken from his face. His mouth curled into a smile so true she felt her entire body melt into shivers, tremors, and tingles. She didn't even look at Byakuya as she pulled her arm away from him and reached out to Ichigo. He nodded his head and took his place in the front row, right next to Mr. Ukitake, who had been invited after he spent a good three hours pleading for Rukia to forgive him and to come back to work as a head of legal at the newly formed Gotei-Suigetsu Incorporated. Rukia had forgiven him, of course, and had almost turned him down until Ichigo had reminded her that he would _also_ be head of legal. And hell, Rukia just couldn't turn down the prospect of more desk sex.

Rukia wasn't thinking about that though. Not now. Now as her fingers linked with his and his twirled around in hers. Their eyes were completely connected. Their smiles were for each other. Their hearts beat purposefully and at the same time. They even seemed to breathe in unison.

A light breeze whistled through the church and the beautiful scent of wild roses swirled around the building.

"Yo," Ichigo whispered.

"Hi," she murmured.

The wizened priest who stood before them smiled, his hands clasped tightly over the archaic book he clutched to his chest. In a voice as strong and as clear as a bell, he began to speak.

The ceremony was a blur. All of the biblical lines, the everlasting love mumbo-jumbo, and the heavy sighs from those congregated before them were completely lost on Ichigo Kurosaki and Rukia Kuchiki. Nothing truly seemed to matter until the priest began to speak the words they had been waiting three whole months to hear.

"Do you, Ichigo Kurosaki, take this woman, Rukia Kuchiki, to be your lawfully wedded wife? To have and to hold from this day forward, for better or for worse, for richer, for poorer, in sickness and in health, to love and to obey; from this day forward until death do you part?"

Ichigo's eyes never left hers during the entire recitation. His warm, honey-amber eyes were swallowing her up; tossing her to and fro in an unending circle of absolute love and adoration. The entire church waited with baited breath as a slow smile slid over Ichigo's face. His fingers tightened around hers and he said, "I do."

Ichigo's beautiful eyes stared into hers as he slid the ring onto her gleaming skin. It looked so right there. So perfect.

It was so perfect it _almost_ made her feel slightly guilty about what she was going to do.

The priest cleared his throat and began again. This time, his gaze was trained on Rukia.

"Do you Rukia—"

Rukia slid her hand from Ichigo's and held it up in front of the priest. He stopped abruptly and all at once, the entire congregation seemed to feel it was their duty to suck all of the air out of the beautifully decorated church.

"Sorry," Rukia muttered, flashing a quickly sheepish look over at her half-husband.

"What are you—?"

"Just a sec," she said and swiftly reached down into the bodice of her dress and pulled out a small piece of paper. She flicked it open with two of her fingers and gently shoved it underneath the priests' nose.

Beside her, she heard Momo let out a small groan. Rukia shot her a swift glare only to find her best friend's shaking head hidden in her bouquet of white and red roses.

She turned her small nose up at Momo and gracefully twisted back to the priest, "Now you may proceed," she said lightly, after which she straightened and finally brought her front to face Ichigo's. His expression was a myriad of confusion, skepticism, and slight apprehension.

Rukia flashed him a brilliant smile and that look only seemed to become worse. In a voice as low as he could make it, he leaned forward slightly and whispered, "What are you up to, midget?"

She fought the urge to kick him and instead allowed her happy grin to become a bit more sadistic than she had first intended.

The priest's eyes scanned over the paper and he coughed lightly in his throat. After a moment more—during which Rukia glared at him relentlessly—he turned to the small woman before him and began again.

"Do you, Rukia Kuchiki, take this man, Ichigo Kurosaki, to be your lawfully wedded husband? To have and to hold from this day forward, for better or for worse, for richer, for poorer, in sickness and in health, to love and to…"

He paused momentarily and Rukia turned back smugly to Ichigo. Their entire audience stopped moving as one. Even Isshin and Yuzu—who had been practically sobbing nonstop since the beginning of _Here Comes the Bride_—ceased their tears long enough to listen attentively to the priest.

Ichigo's eyes were pinned on Rukia's and Rukia's were pinned on his as the man finished.

"To love and to _occasionally_ obey; from this day forward until death do you part?"

The grin Rukia had been trying to hold in slipped out and she couldn't help but let out a small, triumphant giggle. Beside her, Momo groaned and shoved her face even further into her flowers. Only a few steps away from Ichigo, his best man placed his hands over his mouth so the entire congregation would not hear his slight snigger. In the front row of the grooms' side, Isshin whooped and Karin chuckled mercilessly.

When Rukia looked into Ichigo's eyes again his face was a blaze of disbelief.

Rukia tossed her head back and opened her mouth to speak, "I—"

"You cannot do that," Ichigo interrupted immediately.

The congregation, once again, sucked every particle of oxygen out of the building.

Rukia raised one expert eyebrow and narrowed her eyes gently, "And why not?" Her voice was low but she was quite certain that everyone in attendance heard it. Her eyes darted towards the 'bride' side of the church and instantly saw at least seventy five heads bent in abject shame. Yet when she quirked her gaze over toward her brother, she saw that his lips were curled into a ghost of a smile.

"Because you can't!" Ichigo exclaimed, his voice loud enough that it echoed slightly off the walls.

Momo groaned, "Here we go again."

His hands tightened around hers and his scowl reemerged on his face. "If _I_ have to say that I'll love and obey you for the rest of the time that we're married then _you_ have to say it too!"

"I do not," Rukia pointed out, nodding towards the rather uncomfortable looking priest. "We never said that we couldn't write—or in my case—improvise our wedding vows. You simply didn't see all the possibilities."

Ichigo's jaw dropped and Rukia could have sworn that she heard Karin say something along the lines of "you go girl" only to be silenced by a frantic Yuzu.

"Besides," she shrugged, "It's not like anyone actually pays attention to the vows anyway."

"Then why are you changing them?" Ichigo demanded, dropping both of her hands and crossing his arms defensively over his chest.

Rukia raised her arms and crossed them as well, careful not to damage any of the pearls on her delicate bodice. "I'm changing them," she huffed, "Because I know that someday down the road you're going to end up pulling a 'well you promised to obey me for the rest of our lives so do it now' as a reason for me not to do something! I'm not going to put up with that!"

"Oh, and you wouldn't pull that exact same sh—"

Uryu violently cleared his throat to drone out the rest of Ichigo's statement.

The priest rubbed the back of his neck and sighed, "There goes my morning."

Ichigo pointed a rough finger at Rukia and snarled, "You are _infuriating._"

"You're just angry you didn't think of it," she hissed, turning her nose up at him angrily.

"Please," Ichigo grunted, "I'm not the one violating the sanctity of marriage here."

"I'm not violating it!" Rukia growled, "I'm merely improving it!"

Both of Ichigo's hands went into the air and he shook his head, "You're impossible! I don't even know why I'm _marrying _you!"

A collective gasp rang around the church, pierced only by the shriek of "_NO!_" by Isshin and Yuzu Kurosaki.

Rukia wasn't fazed; she narrowed her eyes and snarled, "Well then maybe you shouldn't!"

"Maybe I shouldn't!" He emphasized, taking one step away from her and growling angrily.

"After all," Rukia continued, her voice rising and bouncing off the walls of the church, "Who'd want to get married to a sloppy, stubborn, inconsiderate, orange-headed buffoon like _you_?"

The groom side began to chortle relentlessly.

"Who'd want to get married to an anal retentive midget she-devil like _you_?"

The bride side began to buzz like an angry swarm of bees.

"I don't know!" Rukia yelled, her delicately encased foot finding the stone floor with a loud _thump_. "Maybe someone like you?"

"Well yeah!" He shouted his face becoming redder and redder by the moment. His eyes were a blazing shade of amber and his mouth as set in a firmly straight line. He strode forward until his fulminating face was only a few centimeters away from her furious expression. "But only until _you_ admit that you want to marry _me_ too!"

"Fine!" She shouted, bringing her hand up and poking him several times in the chest, "Maybe I _do_ want to marry you!"

"Good! Maybe I want to marry you _too_!"

She narrowed her eyes and suddenly found her gaze inexorably drawn to his mouth. That taunting, beautiful, talented _mouth_. "I hate you, infuriating fruit-headed mongrel!" She said in a voice far more strangled than she had intended it to be.

For some reason, Ichigo looked just as flustered as she. His fingers were constantly flexing in their iron-bound fists and his eyes were hungrily staring at all of the heaving, creamy white skin she'd exposed for today—aka her breasts. "I hate you more, midget ice princess," he said in a tone that pretty much matched hers.

Momo raised her head and gaped at the two of them. Rukia knew that her friend could recognize that they had gone from furiously angry to demandingly sexual in less than two seconds flat. On the other side of the aisle, Uryu sighed and shook his head, noticing the abrupt transformation as well.

Suddenly, Ichigo flung his body to the side and glared at the terrified priest in front of them. "Yes! Okay, my answer is yes! I will love and occasionally make her obey me! Fine! Now can you just get on with the man and wife stuff? We have things to do!"

_More like _people_ to do,_ they thought together.

The priest's jaw dropped and he looked disbelievingly between the two people standing in front of him. Both of their arms were crossed and they were glaring at him impatiently. A few seconds later they simultaneously started to tap their feet.

He jerked slightly and—jaw still open—began to fumble with his bible.

Rukia rolled her eyes, "Please don't tell me you've forgotten what to say next."

"He probably has," Ichigo muttered, rolling his eyes angrily, "It's 'I now pronounce you man and wife.' Please hurry."

"I-I—"

Rukia's glare stopped his stuttering in its tracks. "I now pronounce… you man and… and… wife."

"Thank _god_!" Ichigo cried.

Instantly, his hands were grasping at her blushing cheeks and hers were grappling for the back of his head. He bent down and she surged upwards. As soon as their lips touched the entire church burst out into applause. Isshin Kurosaki jumped up in is pew and began stomping up and down.

Rukia knew that that they probably shouldn't be full-on making out in front of her entire uptight family or Ichigo's all too enthusiastic one but honestly, she couldn't help herself.

Wrenching her mouth away from his she beamed up into his sparkling eyes. "We did it," she whispered, leaning her forehead against his.

He grinned down at her and decided to ignore the priest when the man muttered something along the lines of "But I didn't even get to say '_I now pronounce you man and wife, you may now kiss the bride. _Psh… kids…'"

"Yeah," he brushed his lips against hers and suddenly, all that seemed to exist was the two of them. They were a small island in a roiling sea of people. "What do you say," he whispered, his hot breath catching her ear and sending shivers down her spine. "That we skip the reception and get a few hours of alone time before our flight leaves?"

"I think," she said, leaning as much against him as she could, "That that is a _wonderful _idea, _Mr. Kurosaki_."

"I'm glad you think so too, _Mrs. Kurosaki_," he chuckled, emphasizing the name she had been fantasizing about for the past few months.

Rukia laughed and kissed him once again; this time putting every ounce of happiness and joy she felt inside of her heart into her kiss. Ichigo grinned into her lips and suddenly swooped down. With their mouths still connected—and with Rukia squealing in surprise—Ichigo Kurosaki picked up his newly pronounced wife. Her arms went around his neck as though they belonged nowhere else and suddenly, the din in the room seemed to double.

Simultaneously, they broke the kiss, grinned and began to laugh. Then, with hasty and purposeful steps, Ichigo Kurosaki carried Rukia Kurosaki out the front doors of the church and into the gleaming sunlight.

**The End.**

**(A/N: It's… over.**

**It's actually… **_**over**_**.**

**I think I'm going to cry.**

**First off, I'd like to say: PLEASE DON'T FORGET TO REVIEW!!!**

**Secondly: I can't believe that this is over. I really can't. It's been almost a year since this story first started in my head.**

**Thirdly: Thank you all so much. Thank you, thank you, thank you… believe me when I say that this fic might not have been finished without your support. It's almost surreal. I don't think there would be a number high enough to count the amount of 'thank you's' that I want to give every single person who read this story—be they reviewers or not. Thank you, thank you, thank you.**

**I will not start crying. .**

**Okay, now onto the hard part.**

**This is also the last fic of extremely large length I think I'll be writing. I want to take time off to work on some original fictions—with the hope of being published one day, of course. I've already got a Freitag's pyramid and character sketches so I think it'll go really well.**

**I plan to continue with my series of one-shots, Safe Sex, and maybe write a few quick one-shots here and there, you know, whenever inspiration strikes. However, I don't really plan anything else that's **_**Odalisque**_** or **_**Murder My Heart**_** length.**

**But plans change so you never know. I have a few unformed ideas that have been spinning in my head.**

**So, once again, thank you to everyone who has even **_**glanced**_** at this story. This story is for you guys, the readers.**

**With the utmost sincerity,**

**Tituba**


	46. IMPORTANT

Dear Fans:

Hi. It's been a while.

I got a PM from a reviewer by the name of wynnsy and another one named Final Engagement alerting me to possible purging on this site of the seriously M-Rated fics. Since mine _is _seriously M-rated I will go ahead and tell you that Odalisque is also available in full on media miner dot org. But, you know, in internet form.

Also, there are a few stories on there that never managed to get onto fanfiction dot net. Most notably, some of my earlier works (do not judge, I was still learning how to write) and a few other works.

Other than that, if you would like updates on what's going on in my life feel free to view my profile page. Also, I might have a surprise for you guys coming up.

Maybe.

I'm still debating.

Mysteriously,

Tituba3


	47. IMPORTANT x2

Finding Odalisque:

On MediaMiner dot org my screen name is just plain Tituba.

When you go to the FanFic section (which you can find at the very top middle of the initial page), then the Bleach section (it is in an alphabetical drop down menu), make sure you are searching with an ALL rating, not just A – T.

Mine is definitely not A – T.

After that the title is the same and don't worry, it's all already there. I updated that site in time with fanfiction dot net.

Also, I've gotten quite a few notices about petitions and boycotts to stop this purge. Here's the information I got:

This from music watch:

There's a petition going around so that you wouldn't have to do such a  
thing, and it would mean a lot if you could spread it around! www . change  
petitions/fanfiction-net-stop-the-destruction-of-fanfiction-net

So please, feel free to sign. I did.

Secondly, this from OilWar:

Team no ff will be boycotting the site (ff) from June the 8th through Sunday  
the 10th. Please do the same. The more of us that don't visit the more impact  
we will have. The idea is to make the site lose ad revenue, hit them where it  
hurts. Let them know we can and will walk away and find other places to post  
our fanfictions. Please join us and spread the word.

Feel free to participate.

Thanks for all the messages and thank you to everyone who cares enough about my fic to alert me to this rather irritating turn of events. Seriously, people spend a lot of time writing these fics, present company included. All ideas should be accepted, doesn't mean you have to read them.

Thank you all again.

Sincerely,

Tituba3


End file.
